Phantom Hearts
by the ramblin rose
Summary: This is a Caryl story, though whole group involvement should be expected. Caryl, Daryl, Carol Rated M for language, violence, and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So here it goes, I'm going to give my Caryl feels a chance to make themselves known. **

**I own nothing from The Walking Dead. The artwork for the cover was posted by melissamcreedus on Tumblr. **

**I hope you enjoy, I hope to do it justice.**

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It was always when she was alone that she thought about him the most, when things were quiet and her mind was left to wander. When she was doing laundry, or doing dishes, or cooking food for everyone. Her eyes would follow after him involuntarily almost as he headed off to watch duty or off to do whatever task it was that Rick had designated for him.

Almost any time she found her thoughts wandering, she found them settling on him. She'd seen him struggling to fit in the group, struggling to find a place. At first she hadn't been sure of him, when Merle had come with him to the group, stumbling upon their camp.

She'd originally thought of him as just another rough redneck, like his brother. Another man, probably like Ed, that would turn violent as soon as the hand was in his favor.

But slowly he'd changed her mind about him. He'd been so determined in his search for her daughter, so quiet with her, coming to visit, offering her the comfort of the Cherokee Rose, and it had brought her some comfort, while it could.

He'd been the one to save her that night, when they'd fled the farm. She had been running through the field of Walkers, waiting at any moment to meet her violent end, seeing taillights leaving, leaving her behind to her fate, and then he'd appeared. _Her knight in shining armor. _

Carol had never imagined her knight in shining armor would be a rough spoken redneck on a motorcycle, but that's who it had been. She'd ridden behind him after that night, hugged against him, feeling the warmth of his skin, and it had become a sensory memory that stayed with her. The feeling of his rippling back muscles, pressed against her, his chest muscles hard under her arms. She'd snuggled into him, holding to him on the ride, smelling the scent of his sweat and soap and dirt in contrast to all the death around her. There was something nice about the smell, it had smelled like _life_, like she could smell the life leaking out of his pores. He was alive, and he'd kept her alive.

She felt like Daryl was a _good_ man, even if he did have his faults. He'd only once been so angry with her that she'd braced herself for the impact of his fist on her face, but the impact had never come. He'd yelled, but he'd backed away just at the moment when she'd prepared herself.

She had a suspicion that he didn't hit her because he wasn't that kind of man. He was angry, not so much with her, but with the fact that Sophia had gone missing. He blamed her for it, and she blamed herself, so they had something in common.

They had other things in common too, though, and she knew it. She'd seen, though he'd tried to hide them, the scars that he wore on his back. Apparently he'd been an abused child, and she could understand what constant and unprovoked abuse could do to an individual. She'd never provoked Ed, at least not to her knowledge, but she'd known what it had been like to spend so many years in constant fear of the next assault, never knowing quite when to expect it.

Life with Ed had been a nightmare, a long, recurring nightmare. There had been so many nights that she'd pray she'd just wake up and it wouldn't be her life, but it had continued. Even now he haunted her dreams, his voice, the feeling of his hands on her, the fear that he inspired in her which seemed to feed him. She woke up sometimes, in her cell, crying out against him.

She had loved Ed, at least in the beginning, but she wasn't sure that he'd ever loved her. She thought he had, but they'd barely been married a month when she burned dinner, and he had slapped her, surprising her. She'd forgiven him for the act, thinking it was an impulse that had somehow gotten away from him, but then it had happened again, a few days later when he'd had a bad day at work, and then again when he'd burned his mouth on the coffee at breakfast.

The angriest he had been with her was when he'd found out that she'd been expecting Sophia. The beating then had been far beyond any of the ones that she'd suffered before, and had left her fearing that she wouldn't make it to the point of delivering the child that had caused him so much anger, and sadly, she remembered wondering if she wanted to deliver it, if she wanted to bring a child into that household.

Sophia had been her pride and joy, though, and she had cherished the little girl. Whenever she thought of her, her heart still clenched and she found it difficult to breath. She'd worked so hard to protect her during her life, to shield her from Ed and all of the harm he threatened to inflict upon her. With Ed's death she'd actually thought that there might be hope for some kind of life for Sophia, that she might be stronger than Carol had been, but then she'd failed her, and she'd lost her.

Daryl seemed like he could understand the abuse that she'd suffered, could be able to understand that she was as ashamed of her own scars as he was of his, both the ones that the naked eye could see and those that were hidden from view but no less present.

Unfortunately, part of the effect that the abuse had on Daryl was that he felt himself alone, an outsider to everyone else. Lately he'd found some acceptance in the group, received some praise by Rick, who was becoming ever more unstable with the threat of the Governor looming in the background, and had attempted to become more of what Rick wanted, but he still remained somewhat outside, untouchable.

_She wanted to touch him._

Carol didn't dare to put into words what she felt about Daryl. She'd teased him a few times about the possibility of a sexual encounter in an effort to gauge his reaction. He had shrugged off her teasing, seeing it probably as nothing more. She'd tried not to take it to heart, not to consider it a rejection. Daryl probably didn't look at her as something sexual. She doubted if he had any real sexual knowledge of women. He was insecure about his body, and she assumed that insecurity would probably make him shy away from intimacy.

But his scars wouldn't bother her. She would gladly run her fingers delicately over the ripples. If she had the chance she'd kiss each and every one of them and tell him that she _understood_, that she could sympathize, and that his scars weren't repulsive to her.

She'd give anything to be that close to him, as close as she was when she was pressed against him on the motorcycle, but in her imaginings it would be so much more. She was a little ashamed that she had thought of him, alone in her cell at night, touching herself and imagining him touching her. She'd conjured in her mind his smell, the feeling of her fingertips running over his muscles. The feeling of his lips against her skin. Sometimes she got so involved in her own fantasies that she was afraid that she blushed the next morning over breakfast, seeing him sitting there, gratefully accepting his breakfast.

Daryl tried to make everyone think that he didn't need anyone, but Carol felt like that was just some sort of performance he enacted, something he'd come up with to protect himself. If people felt like he didn't need them, then they would stay away from him. If he could convince himself that he didn't need anyone, even better. For Daryl, not needing anyone meant that no one could let him down, no one could hurt him.

Carol would never hurt him, not on purpose, but she had no real way of getting any closer to him than she already was. He'd saved her life twice, once that night at the farm, and then again when she'd been lost with T-Dog. She'd waited in the cell, sure that death was coming close, and once again Daryl had come for her, scooping her up and carrying her back to the others, bringing her water and food, and keeping watch over her.

She wanted to repay him. She wanted to show him that his kindness, all of it, had not gone unnoticed, but the words of thanks that she uttered seemed so empty to her. They weren't what she wanted to say. She wanted to thank him differently, she wanted to thank him in a way that would be fulfilling to them both.

They could be good for each other, she saw that. She could understand him, perhaps in a way that no one else could. She'd be willing to tolerate everything that he was hiding from everyone, everything that she could see right below the surface. Insecurity she understood, and she was no stranger to fear. The anger that she had seen boiling in him, she'd also experienced. Even if he lashed out at her, she wouldn't hold it against him. He wouldn't lash out at her for entertainment, as Ed had done so many times, laughing at his ability to hurt her. At least if Daryl lashed out at her, she would know that it was something that he really _needed_, and to bring him that relief, that comfort, she would tolerate whatever he had to offer her.

But Carol didn't know how to make Daryl understand that she saw him as a very good friend, of course, but she saw him as so much more than that. She wanted to give him anything and everything that he could want in life, no matter the cost.

He had never shown any sexual interest in her, but she couldn't help but feel that maybe he'd at least thought about it. She'd caught him gazing at her, more than once, when he thought she wasn't paying attention. Still, Daryl would never be the kind to make a move. She doubted that he'd ever made a move on a woman. In fact, she wondered if he might still be a virgin. If he was, she could see that being yet another obstacle that would keep him from attempting any kind of relationship with her. He would be embarrassed by the fact, though she wouldn't hold it against him. She'd only been with Ed, and that had left her essentially an emotional virgin, since most of her sexual encounters with Ed had been anything but tender, and many had been anything but consensual.

Still, despite all her musings, Carol wasn't sure how to approach the rough spoken redneck as anything more than a friend. She was as inexperienced in these things as she was, even if her desire sometimes tried to convince her that she wasn't.

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Carol brought Daryl's laundry to him. He was lying on his bunk, absentmindedly turning an arrow over and over in his hand.

"I brought you your clothes," Carol said, holding out the few garments that he'd put in the pile to be washed.

He sat up and took them from her. "Thanks," he mumbled.

Carol paused a moment, watching him toss the clothes to the side and flop back onto the bed, one muscular arm under his head, the other continuing the toying with the arrow.

"Do you need anything?" Carol asked.

"No, I don't need nothin'," Daryl said.

She stayed a moment longer, looking at him, and then finally gathered up her basket to go and deliver clean clothes to everyone else that was waiting for them, not wanting him to notice that she lingered too long.

Carol did for everyone in the prison. She'd accepted the role as a matriarch to the group, slowly taking over laundry and cooking as her responsibilities. They'd been responsibilities that she'd shared with Lori, Andrea, and Amy in the beginning, but each of them were gone now, and though Beth was sometimes helpful with things and stepped up when one pair of hands just couldn't manage the work, Carol primarily worked on her own.

Then there was Judith. Rick fathered the little girl as much as he could, given the circumstances and given the fact that he was dealing with a lot of issues surrounding Lori's tragic death. Carol kept Judith's crib in her room, a crib that Rick, Carl, and Michonne had brought back for her from a trip back to Rick's home town. Most nights, though not every night, Rick would accept the little girl from Carol after she'd had a bottle and would spend some time rocking her, nuzzling her, and when she'd fallen asleep he would put her in her crib.

Sometimes he talked to Carol while he was doing this, other times he didn't. She'd learned not to push him. Even if she was in bed, quietly waiting for him to put the child down, she wouldn't speak to him unless he started the conversation.

She knew he had a lot on his mind, like everyone there, and she didn't want him to feel that he had to talk about it until he was ready to.

Regardless, however, of Rick's spurts of fathering, there still remained the fact that Judith needed more parenting than one brief interval before bed, and it had fallen mostly on her shoulders to provide that parenting. Others, from time to time, fed the girl when she requested a little assistance, but she had taken on the main part of the work. Beth had offered to help with the girl, and she did help a good bit, but Carol felt that Beth was too young to feel herself saddled with a child that wasn't hers. Carol had experience with babies, and she had practice with filling her nights with getting up with a baby.

It was Daryl, though, that Carol was most interested in doing for in the prison. She tried to do anything that she could for him, provide him with any extra kindness or effort that she could think to provide.

Daryl was always so grateful for things. Whatever she did, no matter how simple, he always seemed pleased with. When she chatted with him, which he allowed and even seemed to enjoy from time to time, she would offer him compliments on his abilities and on his judgment about situations. He always pretended to brush off her compliments, like they meant nothing to him, but she could tell that each one did.

His grateful nature touched her more than anything else. It was clear to her that he ached for kindness, for reassurance, for _validation._ She wanted to give him all those things, and so much more. She wished that he would trust her enough to tell her what he wanted, what he needed, what he ached to have. She'd give him any and everything she had to offer as a person, if only she felt there were any indication that he wanted anything more from her than what he already got, which was only slightly more than what she offered to even the new people that had come to the prison since the Governor's attack.

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Carol was getting ready for bed, Rick had already put Judith down and was retiring. Daryl sauntered past her cell, on his way to night watch, no doubt, and paused a minute outside her door.

"Do you need something, Daryl?" Carol asked.

"No," Daryl said after a moment. "I was just headin' out to watch," he finished.

"Have a good watch, then," Carol said.

"You goin' to sleep?" Daryl asked.

"I was getting ready to," she said, aware that it was dark enough in her cell that he couldn't see nearly as much of her as she could see of him in the hallway.

"Lil' Asskicker sleepin'?" He asked.

"Yes, Daryl, she's been down for at least half an hour," Carol said.

Daryl lingered there a moment longer, and then without saying anything he headed off in the direction of watch.

"Goodnight Daryl," Carol whispered, more to herself than to anyone else, sure that it wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear.

She sighed and pulled her blanket up, trying to sleep, hoping that her daydreaming about Daryl before she drifted off would ward off any unwelcome memories of Ed that might try to haunt her dreams.

One day she'd rake up enough courage to approach Daryl. One day she'd come to him like some kind of woman that she'd seen on television or read about in Harlequin novels. She'd summon all her courage and she'd let him know what she'd been thinking about, let him know that she'd been thinking about _him_, but she wasn't there yet. She hadn't found that person inside herself, if that person even existed.

Sometimes Carol thought about Daryl and tried to define her own feelings about him. On the one hand she knew that some of her feelings were physical. She longed to feel him next to her, to feel him touching her, but on the other hand she thought they might be deeper. She dared to think, at times, that the affections that she felt for him might be love, but she wasn't sure anymore if she could feel love. She thought she had loved Ed, but then she'd come to hate him. She knew she'd loved Sophia, but her heart felt shattered from the loss of her angel. Now she didn't quite know what to make of the feelings she had for Daryl. They felt like love sometimes, but she didn't quite know if she had the heart left to love.

It always made her think of something that she had read once. It had said that when someone loses a limb, they could still feel that limb. They could feel the aches, itches, or whatever that they would have felt if it was still there. The article had called it _phantom limbs._

Sometimes that's what she thought it was when she felt like she loved Daryl. She thought that maybe she'd had the heart to love once, but it had been so broken, so lost to her, that now she only thought she felt what it was feeling. Like maybe she loved the broken, rough spoken redneck, not with her heart which had ceased to exist so long ago, but with a phantom heart that was only an echo of what hand once been there.

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**AN: What do you think? I know it's a little rough around the edges, but I'm still working on my Caryl muse. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: A kind of short chapter. I'm still working on getting my muse to completely cooperate with me, so I may be putting out short chapters for a little bit until I'm able to get a very good grasp on my characters and exactly where we're going and how we're going to get there.**

**I hope you enjoy. Thank you for your reviews on the first chapter. They pushed me to continue struggling with my muse and push out this chapter, even if it is a short progression. **

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"Carol! Carol!" Daryl's voice rang out.

Carol was putting laundry away. She left the basket in Hershel's cell and made her way toward the sound of his voice. Every time she heard him say her name, she jumped a little. It always caught her by surprise, and it always made her stomach flip flop just a little.

"What is it, Daryl?" Carol asked, finding him looking in her cell.

"I caught a splinter," he said, holding his palm up to her.

_He could get Hershel to fish it out for him._ Carol thought, but Daryl hadn't gone to Hershel. He preferred her to handle little things like splinters. She took his hand in hers and turned it over so that she could examine the splinter.

The "splinter" that Daryl had described would have been better called a board and he had it very well lodged right in his palm. Carol studied it for a minute, wrinkling her brow.

"Hold on a minute, Daryl," Carol said, ducking into her cell and retrieving a pair of tweezers and a needle for the operation that she was about to have to perform. "Let's go in the dining room, there's better light there."

Daryl followed her into what had once been a break room or something of the like in the prison. They used it now as a dining room. He sat down at the table where she instructed him to sit and offered her his hand so that she could remove the splinter.

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Carol's hands were cool on his and soft. Her hands were always cool. Not cold, but just cool enough to be refreshing. Daryl was always hot. Even in the winter he found it difficult to get cooled off at times.

He wasn't particularly fond of having people dig splinters out of his hands, but splinters had a tendency to happen if you weren't careful around some of the boards in the makeshift watchtower that he, Rick, and Glenn had built since the Governor's latest attack. If he was going to have someone digging around in his hand, though, he'd rather it be Carol than Hershel. She was gentler than Hershel was, and she apologized when she hurt him and he jerked his hand a little. The coolness of her hands was just an added bonus, and another reason to prefer her over Hershel any day.

"How did you manage this one?" Carol asked, working the piece of wood out slowly.

"Dunno," Daryl said. "It just sorta snuck up on me."

Carol stopped fishing for a minute and smiled at him. She shook her head slightly and went back to her work. Daryl watched her, her forehead wrinkling as she focused on the task at hand.

"It's one heck of a splinter, Daryl," she said.

"Well, you know, if you gonna do it, you might as well do it right," Daryl said. He flinched a little.

"Sorry," she said softly.

She continued at her work for another few minutes. Daryl's palm was burning now and he was ready for this to be over.

"Damn, you 'bout done?" He asked. "It's like you's some kinda pirate an' you think there's gold or somethin' in there, but they ain't!" He involuntarily snatched his hand a little, but she held tight to his fingers, tugging his hand back toward her.

"Almost," she said softly. "You got it pretty deep, Daryl."

When she finished, Daryl felt almost instant relief, though his hand still stung a little. Carol, without warning, lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his palm gently.

"There you go," she said, "all better."

Daryl tugged his hand away from her, the feeling of her lips pressed against it still lingering for a second.

"Thank you," he said, getting up a little uncomfortably. He didn't glance back at her, still sitting there at the table. He grabbed up his crossbow out of the corner and headed back out the door.

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Daryl always got uncomfortable when she touched him like that. He could accept her putting her hand on him from time to time, or taking his hand to get up from sitting on the ground. He could accept her hugging him when the rode on his motorcycle, and he could accept her touching him to do things like remove the splinter, but those touches were _practical._ Carol suspected that they didn't bother him because he could easily rationalize to himself _why_ she had touched him that way. There was a reason for it. The few light kisses that she had given him throughout the time she'd known him, those had been what he'd shied away from, what had made him uncomfortable. He couldn't understand the reason for them. It was _tenderness_ that made Daryl uncomfortable. It was something foreign to him, something he couldn't quite understand.

She hoped that one day she could make him understand what tenderness was, make him appreciate it, maybe even want it. One day he might not shy away from her kisses. One day he might even _return_ them.

The thought of Daryl even accepting her kisses without flinching pleased Carol more than she wanted to admit. Even if he wasn't ready to return them yet, kiss for kiss, she felt like she'd enjoy just knowing that he was willing to accept hers and to enjoy them, at least to some degree. Maybe then he'd find something in himself that desired to return them, but just accepting them would be a step.

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Carol went to her cell after having dropped off laundry. She opened the top drawer of her dresser and dropped the foil package into the drawer with the others that she had picked, from time to time, from the drawers in Glenn's room, under the guise of putting away his clothes.

She felt a little ashamed. She hadn't even had the courage to kiss Daryl. The time had never seemed right, it would have been strained in any situation, and it always seemed like there was someone present. If Daryl were to reject her advances that would be devastating enough, and she surely didn't need the added humiliation of witnesses when she did finally work herself up to letting him know about her interest and digging around to find out if he might feel the same, or at least be willing to consider it.

She hadn't kissed him. She didn't have the guts to make a move and kiss him, but she'd been squirreling away condoms from Glenn's stash one at a time for some time, hoping that if she only took one at a time he wouldn't notice, and so far he hadn't.

_You don't have the nerve to kiss him for fear that he'll reject you, but you have the gall to assume that you might need to hide condoms in your room?_

Carol knew it was ridiculous, but it had almost been like an impulse for her since she'd been seriously considering approaching him. She knew that Daryl wouldn't have condoms. She didn't know if he'd ever had a need for them in his life, but he certainly hadn't had much of a need for them since she'd known him.

She didn't relish the thought of getting pregnant, not with everything that was going on in their world, so she'd begun to hide the condoms away, like some sort of strange obsession. Each time she slipped another into her pocket she would take it back to her room and count through the foil squares she kept hidden underneath her underwear. It was like she was somehow confident that even though she couldn't even kiss him, she really needed to be prepared for them to have sex. Right now she had stolen ten condoms in total.

_You've really got this figured out, Carol, _she thought. _He acted uncomfortable today when you'd kissed his hand, you don't even have the guts to kiss him chastely on the lips, but you're prepared for the first ten times you sleep with him._

She sighed and covered up her plunders with her underwear again, turning to go and start dinner. Everyone would be hungry soon, and they'd be looking at her.

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Carol was thankful today that no one was volunteering to help her with dinner. Instead of accepting help cooking, Carol had asked Beth to entertain Judith, leaving Carol with plenty of time to think, something she enjoyed doing, especially when she was thinking of Daryl, which she often was.

She'd only seen him once, briefly, since the morning's splinter incident, and she hadn't had much time to talk to him. He'd come in, like nearly everyone else, awaiting whatever nourishment she would hand out for lunch. Often times she'd try to hand out the food quickly and then make her way to sit with him for a few minutes while she ate her own food. It was the only way these days that she got any time to sit and chat with him or even just to be near him without searching for some kind of excuse. His mind these days was on the threat of the Governor, as were the minds of several others, and that had kept him tied up.

Today, however, everyone had dawdled a little too much and by the time she'd handed out all the food, she couldn't find Daryl. She'd had to settle with sitting next to Michonne while she ate her lunch, thankful that the woman seemed to have absolutely no interest in chit chat and therefore wouldn't discover Carol's sour mood and inquire about the cause of it.

Tonight, however, Carol was letting her mind drift back to her imaginings on how she would present her interest to Daryl, assuming she ever did.

She'd started the trek more than once between her cell and the one that he had finally settled into. They'd been nights when she'd grown frustrated with her own thoughts, with her own fantasies. She'd gotten angry at herself for staying in her cell, touching herself and imagining what it _could_ be like when he was only feet away and if she had any guts at all she could very well close the gap between them and spend the rest of the night in his arms, _knowing_ what it was like. Each time her frustration with herself had roused her enough to take one of the foil packets, pull on her robe, and walk with determination until she was only inches from the door to his cell. Then, each time, she'd frozen. She'd hung there, trying to figure out what she would say, what she would do, and how she would handle it if Daryl thought she was crazy and turned her away. Then she'd lost her courage each time and had returned to her cell, back to her frustration, until the next time that she roused herself to return to the same point.

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After Carol made sure that everyone had dinner, she found Daryl and took a seat beside him quietly. He was engaged in a conversation with Rick that didn't really interest her, but he did turn slightly and acknowledge her when she sat.

"How's your hand?" She asked quickly.

"Fine," Daryl grunted.

He'd returned to his conversation with Rick then, leaving Carol to eat her dinner listening to them. Any interaction with Daryl was better than nothing, especially these days since Rick was occupying most of his attention, and Carol was at least grateful that she could have dinner sitting beside him. He might not be comfortable yet with her touching him, but he was clearly comfortable with her presence, and that was something at least.

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Carol had asked to look at his hand after dinner, saying that she wanted to make sure that it didn't look like it might get infected, and Daryl had held it out to her. She'd run her fingertips over his palm, softly, and for a moment Daryl wondered if she was going to kiss it again.

Carol was funny like that. Sometimes she did little things that Daryl didn't expect, and that he didn't entirely understand. He liked it, though. She was different from the women that he'd known in his life. She was soft spoken and ladylike. The women that he'd known had mostly consisted of the string of women that Merle brought through their house, and all of them had been rough women that he'd picked up at one bar or another. The Dixons had a certain reputation, and the women that would tangle up with a Dixon were not women like Carol. They certainly weren't women that brushed your hair out of your face when you were healing and they were checking on you, and they weren't women that kissed your palm gently after they'd taken a splinter out of your hand.

Carol hadn't kissed his hand this time, though, and Daryl wondered if it had to do with everyone else there.

Carol got along with everyone, except Rick at times, and everyone seemed to like her. There really wasn't much not to like. Carol wasn't one to go about ruffling feathers, and she offered the same kindness to everyone, regardless of their position within the group. Daryl had noticed, though, that despite her kindness to everyone, Carol didn't do the same little things for them, like kissing their hands after she doctored them, like she did for Daryl, and she didn't do those little things for him when anyone else was looking.

Sometimes he wondered if there was more to her lighthearted teasing than just teasing, but then he could chase those kinds of thoughts away fairly easily. Carol was a lady, and ladies didn't have anything to do with Dixons.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank you all for your reviews. I'm glad to see that some of you are excited about the story.**

**That being said, I hope you like the new chapter!**

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Carol was lying in bed, thinking about Daryl, but she couldn't fall asleep. She was fighting with herself, like she did so many nights, over why she was lying in bed thinking about him yet couldn't find it in herself to tell him.

_What do I do if he doesn't want me?_

Carol didn't know what Daryl would want in a woman, but she felt it might be a little presumptuous to assume that she would be anything that he would want. She so desperately wanted him, though, that she couldn't stand the not knowing.

Finally she threw her blanket back and got up, like she had several times before, and pulled her robe on, attempting to block out a little of the chill that had begun to settle in the prison at night. She opened her drawer, hesitating a moment, and then burrowing under her underwear, pocketing one of the foil packages.

She lamented a little her situation. She had nothing seductive to offer Daryl. Her nightgown was shabby at best and none of her underwear was in the finest condition. She thought a moment and shucked off the ones she was wearing, picking the least tattered pair from the drawer and pulling them on.

_Wishful thinking?_

Carol took a deep breath and stepped out of her cell, she started toward Daryl's cell, aware that her breathing was faster. She was nervous, and she wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't shaking.

Carol stopped just before she got to Daryl's cell. It was a familiar place for her. The red light to her intentions. She'd lingered in the very spot more times than she cared to admit. She had no plan, and she felt like she needed a plan. She needed to know where she was going from here if she didn't want to ruin it entirely, if there was actually anything to ruin.

_No_, Carol thought, _I'm not going back to my cell until I have some idea of what Daryl thinks, no matter what it is. _

She had to know something, one way or the other. She stepped into Daryl's cell. He was asleep. The sound of his steady breathing told her that, though there was almost no visibility in the cell. She stood a moment, hesitating, trying to figure out what would be the best thing to do. She thought about calling his name until he woke, but she realized that she couldn't find her voice right now. It had just disappeared.

Finally she reached out and pushed gently on his leg. He stirred a little, but didn't fully wake. She pushed again.

Daryl jerked awake then, sitting up slightly.

"What the hell?" He growled. He fumbled around and a moment later a match roared to life and the glow from Daryl's lantern illuminated the cell to some degree.

Suddenly Carol felt like she couldn't breathe, but there was no turning back now. She hadn't fully planned out her next move, but she pushed herself forward, determined. She sat on Daryl's bed, still not speaking. He rubbed his eyes, the crease between his brows showing clearly his confusion in the flickering lamplight. Carol simultaneously reached out for him and pushed herself forward, making contact with him and pressing her lips to his.

There was no response of any kind from Daryl. He didn't return the kiss or even seem to react in any way. His hands didn't move to her body. Nothing. Carol pulled away from him then and got up, turning to leave the cell as silently as she had entered it.

Daryl's hand caught her wrist and held her tightly. She didn't turn to look at him. Her cheeks were burning and she could already feel the tears, both of embarrassment and disappointment, rising in her eyes.

"What the hell, Carol?" Daryl growled. "You're really somethin' else. You don't just come into my cell in the middle a' the damn night, kiss me, an' then go traipsin' off without sayin' nothin'," Daryl said.

"Forget about it, Daryl," Carol said, "and keep your voice down." She didn't want anyone over hearing any of this, anyone being able to piece together that she had made a stupid assumption and had acted on it, just to be shot down.

"Forget about it, nothin'," Daryl said, yanking at her arm. She thought he was probably rougher than he intended to be, perhaps not realizing his own strength. She turned then, worried that he would be able to see the tears welling in her eyes. She hoped she could speak around the knot that was rising in her throat. "What the hell you doin'?" He asked.

Carol sat down on the bed, not speaking for a minute. She didn't know what to say, she hadn't prepared her rejection speech. _She hadn't prepared any speech._

"I'm sorry," she stammered.

"For what?" He asked, his voice lower now. "What's goin' on? You ain't right."

"I just…" she started and stopped. _I just what? I just hoped that I would kiss you and you would want me, but you don't, so now I don't know how to get back to my cell._ "I don't know, Daryl," she finished.

He looked concerned. She couldn't really read his facial expression though, and she didn't know if that had to do with him or if it had to do with the flickering light from the lamp. She didn't expect what came next though.

Daryl pulled her toward him, leaning in, and he kissed her, timidly. She responded to the kiss, closing her eyes. She knew then that the tears that had threatened to fall earlier were rolling down her cheeks, and she felt herself gasp a little.

The kiss was clumsy at best, but it was a kiss, and that was what counted. When Daryl pulled back Carol opened her eyes, aware that he was still grasping her wrist as though she might run off at any minute.

"Is that what you wanted?" Daryl asked. "Why you cryin'?"

Carol nodded and moved toward him to kiss him again. This time, though the kiss was still equally clumsy, there was the connection of tongues and teeth. Perhaps too much tongue, and Carol tried to will herself not to respond negatively to the almost choking intrusion of his tongue in her mouth. She didn't care. She would do whatever he wanted, however he wanted to do it, as long as he wanted it, wanted _her_.

Carol slipped out of her robe, leaving her nightgown in place. She shivered a little at the nip of the air in the cell.

Daryl's blankets were still bunched around him and she started to pull them down, but he tugged them back up.

"Don't," Carol whispered. "Don't hide from me. I know about the scars, Daryl, and I don't care."

Daryl hesitated a minute but finally allowed her to pull the blankets down.

Carol realized she didn't know what to do. She wasn't prepared for this. She'd never been in this position before. All her encounters with Ed had gone much, much differently. She hoped that whatever clueless moves she made would be enough to drive him on. She leaned in, kissing his chest, sucking gently at one of his nipples. Daryl reacted. He shifted his weight and she didn't know if it was a good response or a bad, but she continued to kiss his chest, feeling the weight of one of his hands on her back, the other on the back of her neck.

Daryl didn't respond verbally to any of the actions that she was attempting, and she hoped she wasn't failing miserably at what she was attempting. The art of seduction, if there really was such an art, was one that she had no practical knowledge of. She hoped he couldn't tell.

She finally gathered herself up mentally and slid her hand down, sliding it into the waistband of his boxers. Immediately she was aware that she must be doing _something_ right. She stroked him, continuing to plant kisses on his body.

It was only then that she earned the first moan from him and noticed the changing in the rising and falling of his chest. She continued to rhythmically stroke his erection, pausing only momentarily to look at him. His eyes were closed, his breathing was hard, and he had leaned his head back against the wall. Carol didn't want to disappoint him, and he looked like he was right where he needed to be right now.

Carol felt Daryl reach his peak and his body shook violently. She continued to stroke him until she was sure that he had drained every bit of pleasure from the moment that he was likely to get. She stopped then, but she didn't move from her position, one hand inside his boxers, the other propping her up. She waited for his breath to calm and him to finally open his eyes and look at her.

"Shit," he growled after a minute.

"Do you have a handkerchief?" Carol asked softly. Daryl pulled away from her then, digging in the drawers of his nightstand and offering her a handkerchief. She silently cleaned her hand.

"Fuck!" Daryl said, a little more loudly than he'd been speaking before.

Carol wasn't sure, suddenly, how to react. She would have thought that he'd have been pleased, but right now he seemed more pissed off than she'd seen him in some time. He looked at her like he could kill her for a second.

"It's OK, Daryl," she said.

"Ain't OK," he said. "I ain't did nothin' for you."

Carol smiled a little at him.

"I didn't intend for you to, Daryl. I did that for you," she said. "Did you like it?"

Daryl didn't say anything and for a moment Carol wished she could somehow crawl inside his mind and figure him out. She hadn't thought she'd disappointed him, not until now.

"I'm sorry," she stammered.

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Daryl didn't know what to think. He hadn't expected this at all. He didn't even know what was happening. Carol had come in, looking wide eyed and nothing like she normally looked, and they'd kissed. Then she'd gone and done _that_.

He felt embarrassed a little. He'd not wanted to lose himself so quickly. He had thought about touching her more, connecting with her more, but he hadn't made it anywhere. Carol was in front of him now, her nightgown still undisturbed and he had already blown it.

_What a way to impress her!_ He thought. There wasn't any recovering from this.

Now she was apologizing when it had been him that hadn't been able to hold out three minutes.

Carol moved toward him like she was going to kiss him again and he shoved her away, not really sure why, but wanting to be alone with his humiliation. He pushed her harder than he'd intended and she smacked her head on the upper bunk. He'd heard the contact, but she didn't say anything, she just suddenly lunged toward him a little.

"It's OK, Daryl," she said. "I could stay here, I could wait."

"Get the hell outta here, what are you thinkin' anyway?" Daryl growled.

Most of him didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay there. Part of him, though, wanted her to leave, not to rub his humiliation into his face any longer. He wasn't prepared for her to drop against him, her face on his chest, her fingers digging around his back.

"Please, Daryl," Carol said, her voice sounding different than it had before. "Please think about it," she said. "I'll leave if you want me to, but I want you to think about it. I'm not coming back if I leave."

Daryl was caught by her words. He didn't want her to leave, and he certainly didn't want her to leave and not come back. He just wanted to not feel the heat of the embarrassment that was eating at him, though she seemed to barely notice it.

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Carol felt desperate. What she had done was obviously wrong, and Daryl was angry with her. She thought he might be embarrassed, but she didn't want him to feel that way. She had suspected this would happen, and wasn't surprised in the least, she also didn't consider it something bad.

She had meant what she said, though, if he pushed her away, sent her back to her cell now, she wouldn't come back. She'd already put herself in a position to be rejected and humiliated, and she wouldn't do it again.

Daryl rested one arm on her back and reached under her face with the other, pulling it up to look at her.

"Then don't go," he said. "It's just that I…"

Daryl's voice had trailed off and he hadn't finished his statement, but Carol didn't care what it was that he'd had to say. No matter what, he was making it quite clear that he wasn't rejecting her and her heart clenched at the thought. She crawled over him, straddling him, and kissed him again, pulling her own head back far enough to control a little better the intrusion of his tongue. She felt Daryl's fingers at her thighs, trying to catch the bottom of her nightgown. She sat back on her heels, across his legs, and let him pull the gown off, leaving her entirely exposed except for her underwear.

Daryl looked at her like he didn't know what to do and the thought returned to Carol that Daryl might be a virgin. She wondered if she was the first woman that he'd ever had straddling him, waiting for him to make some move in appreciation of her body. She wasn't going to ask him, though, for fear of further embarrassing him and maybe losing the footing that she had gained so far.

Daryl suddenly sat forward, taking one of her nipples into her mouth and wrapping his hands around her ribcage. It sent a jolt through her and she arched her back without even thinking about it. His mouth found the other and then she felt his hungry hands snaking over her body. She felt her own breathing change pace as he started exploring her with his tongue.

_Maybe he's not as clueless as I thought_.

"What the hell is this?" Daryl asked suddenly, snapping Carol out of her thoughts for a minute.

"What?" She panted. She was just starting to come back into the reality of the cell. Before every single touch of Daryl's skin against hers had been feeding the fire building inside her, but now that she was trying to pinpoint his concern, she was paying closer attention to the details of her touches.

"This, what the hell _is_ this?" Daryl asked. He was panting too, but he'd been distracted by the spider web like design that occupied the skin above her right ribcage on the side, and around part of her belly. The longest strand of the spider web running jaggedly from just under her right breast to just above her left hip bone. Carol felt a sting when she thought of it. The spider web had been Ed's handy work. The random slashes that formed the web had been randomly doled out with a razor blade in various drunken assaults. The first had been the longest, and it had surprised her when he had done it. He had enjoyed it, though, and after that they had come more frequently and randomly.

"It's nothing, Daryl," Carol said. She wanted him to stop tracing his fingers over the slightly raised lines. She was suddenly worried. It wasn't going to be _his_ scars that were going to affect _her_, instead it was going to be hers that affected Daryl, and she hadn't prepared for that.

"Don't look like nothin' to me," Daryl said.

Carol kissed him, hoping to draw his attention back to what they were doing.

"It doesn't matter, Daryl, not anymore," she whispered to him, blowing slightly in his ear. She felt him shiver.

Carol pulled away from him and crawled backward down the bed, she tugged at his underwear and he lifted slightly so that she could pull it down. She shucked her own then. It was Daryl's turn to stir then. He got up and carefully grabbed her by the shoulders. He kissed her again and pushed her toward the mattress.

Carol wasn't surprised that Daryl was going to insist on being on top. She didn't mind at all. She hadn't had any practice being on top, and she felt she might fail at it.

Carol gasped when Daryl reached his hand between her legs and decided to return for her the favor that she had done for him earlier, even if he hadn't thought of it as a favor at the time. She thought she could pass out from the sheer pleasure of the moment. She'd never felt anything like it, one of his hands working to please her, his mouth teasing her nipples.

"You ready?" He asked.

Carol hadn't even realized that he was ready again, but she _was_ ready. She felt has hands on the inside of her thighs, spreading her more than she was.

"Hold on," she rasped, her mouth was dry. "In my robe, in the pocket…"

Daryl looked confused for a moment, and then he leaned over the side of the bed and found her robe on the floor. Digging through the pockets he came out with the foil square.

"Just to be safe," Carol said.

Daryl smiled and didn't say anything. She watched him as he put the condom on.

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Daryl had never been with a woman like Carol. Admittedly, his experience with women was limited to three. One had been a hooker that Merle had "given him" for his sixteenth birthday, insisting that he learn to be a man. Things with the hooker had gone quickly and he hadn't really known what he was doing at all. She'd taken charge of most things. The other two women had been some girls that Merle was messing with and he was fairly certain at the time that their interest in him had more to do with teasing Merle's baby brother than it had to do with any genuine interest in Daryl.

Daryl really didn't really feel confident in what he was doing, but Carol seemed to be responding well, so he hoped he was at least offering her a little bit of pleasure. She wasn't giving him any direction, and he hoped that if this were something they were going to repeat, and not just some one-time thing that she'd regret in the morning, that she would maybe let him know what she liked or didn't like.

Daryl spread her thighs apart, and positioned himself as best he could. He pushed into her, and she gasped, whining a little. Her hands digging into him.

For a minute Daryl was worried. Maybe he hadn't done something right. He could feel that she was tense, and he wondered if he'd hurt her. He was becoming aware that this woman wasn't going to be one to tell him that he'd hurt her, but he knew he had no skill in interpreting her silence.

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Carol had been surprised by the feeling of Daryl pushing into her. He'd frozen, though, and now she was relaxing a little. She opened her eyes and saw that he was looking at her, visibly worried. She smiled, grabbing him and pulling him toward her.

"Come on," she said, trying to spur him on a little.

That was all the encouragement that he needed. He began to thrust into her, and she realized quickly that there was no distinguishable rhythm to his thrusting. Some were harder, some were gentler, and there was no keeping pace with the varying speeds. Carol had no hope of matching herself in time with his thrusts, so she did the best she could and mostly left him to do whatever it was he needed to do.

Regardless of the imperfection in style, the encounter was still delicious, and Carol didn't want it to end. They'd both spoken very little during the whole process, and she still wasn't sure exactly what was going on here. She wasn't sure what Daryl thought it was, or even what she thought it was. Was it just sex? Would it happen again or would this be the only clumsy night they'd spend together.

She tried not to think about it and instead to turn her thoughts to the act that was taking place. She reached between them to rub herself, hoping to guarantee that she climaxed when he did. He took her cue and his hand replaced hers, the other hand holding him up so that he didn't put all his weight on her.

When he'd finally reached his climax, she'd felt her own release at the same time. The two of them had spasmed together, gasping for breath, completely uncaring who heard the final moaning sounds and rasping breath.

Daryl collapsed upon her for a second, and then rolled to the side, realizing his own weight would be suffocating for her. She laid her head on his chest, her body still quivering.

"You OK?" He asked.

"I'm perfect, Daryl," she said. "Did you like it?"

_What I really mean is did you like me?_ She thought.

"It was good," Daryl said. "I thought it was real good."

Carol drew circles on his chest with her finger. She would have to leave his cell before morning, Judith wouldn't let her stay there all night, probably wouldn't let her stay there for much longer. Daryl was already starting to drift off to sleep. They hadn't talked about this, about what it meant, and Carol was feeling a little sad about it now. She didn't exactly know what she'd wanted them to talk about or what she wanted to say, but she really hoped that Daryl hadn't seen this as just a one-time thing.

She wondered how it would be tomorrow, with tonight's encounter hanging over their heads. They would have to talk about it. They'd have to get the elephant out of the room, and Carol hoped that she wouldn't be disappointed by the result.

Sometime later, Carol heard Judith cry out. She quickly got up, pulling on her robe, carrying the rest of her clothes. Daryl was already deeply asleep, and she tried not to disturb him. She gently leaned in, kissing him on the forehead. He didn't stir. She blew out his lamp and made her way back to her cell.


	4. Chapter 4

When Daryl woke up, he wasn't sure what he expected. Maybe he had expected Carol to be there, maybe not, but when he found that she wasn't there he did have a moment of something, it could have been disappointment, but he wasn't sure. He had no reason to be disappointed, no reason to think that she would be there when he woke up.

When he'd finally gotten out of bed there was little evidence that the night before had been anything but a dream. He was in bed naked, not how he normally slept. Other than his underwear tossed on the floor, the only evidence that he hadn't dreamed the interaction with Carol was the discarded condom and the fact that the wick on his lamp was shorter and the oil level lower.

She'd left as quietly and inexplicably as she'd come.

It sunk into Daryl as he was dressing what had happened. Carol had come to him for the same reason that any woman would come to a Dixon. Merle had talked about it a million times before. The Dixons were good at the "fuck 'em and forget 'em" style of life, and they were searched out by women who wanted just that. The women that Merle talked about approaching him for such a thing didn't want anything else, just to "get their itch scratched" as Merle had described it. That was what it had been.

"_We ain't no good, lil' brotha, not for all that stuff that the damn pussies do, but we is good for scratchin' itches, an' it's a helluva lot betta 'cuz you ain't gotta worry 'bout the bitch the next mornin'."_

Daryl knew that he should be pleased with what had happened. According to the standards that Merle had always tried to teach him, it appeared that he had finally achieved some level of greatness, some level of being an actual Dixon. For Merle, being used for sex had been a source of pride. Daryl wasn't proud, though, he mostly felt _used_.

It didn't matter anyway. He didn't have time for a damn woman in his life, clouding up his judgment and making him look out for someone else. All he had to look out for now was himself, and that was all he needed. Merle was dead, and Daryl didn't need anyone else stepping in to make him care about them.

Carol was just another damn woman and it was just fine that she'd only wanted his attention for a night to get her jollies. What did it matter to him? He'd gotten off, and so had she. That was all there was to it. It was fucking fine, and it didn't matter at all to Daryl.

Except it did, a little.

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Judith had driven Carol crazy for most of the night. Even though the baby hadn't slept well, she showed no signs of wanting to sleep now. The only way that Carol had even been able to get breakfast ready was by passing the child to Hershel who, with almost infinite patience, was willing to entertain the baby as much as she liked.

Carol had been waiting all morning for Daryl to come to breakfast, anxious to see how he would act after the night before. She didn't expect any great sign of emotion from him, that probably wasn't Daryl's style, if he even had one yet, but she wondered if the night before had affected him at all. Would there be any gesture of tenderness? Any lingering connection from the night before?

She'd been so distracted thinking about it that she'd clumsily dropped half the things that she'd attempted to pick up during the morning, leading Beth to actually ask if she was alright or if she thought that she should go and speak to Hershel. Carol had assured the girl that she was fine, knowing that Hershel would have no remedy for what was ailing her, and she wouldn't have wanted to tell him what she was suffering from.

When Daryl had come to breakfast, though, it was not at all what Carol had expected from him. He'd taken his plate from her with no eye contact whatsoever. He'd almost snatched it from her hand. Instead of lingering to talk with her for even a minute, he'd gone immediately to eat with Rick and didn't so much as glance in her direction while he ate, leaving his plate there and disappearing from sight with his crossbow over his shoulder.

It struck Carol. Daryl had seen the incident as nothing more than a one night stand, and she really couldn't blame him. She was ashamed of how she had acted, like a sex crazy teenager. He had no reason to think that the night was supposed to mean anything more. She'd come to him, after all. He hadn't solicited her or shown any interest until she threw herself at him. He'd only _accepted_ her proposal, as most men would have, and had seen it as only a sexual encounter.

Carol's chest felt tight when she thought about it, washing the breakfast dishes. She had thrown herself at a man, begging him to have sex with her, and somewhere in the back of her mind she had thought that he would have some reason to interpret that as a desire for something _more_. She had been foolish to think that of anyone, and especially of a man that had clearly not been one for intimate relationships.

She only hoped that Daryl would be discreet enough not to leak her humiliation to the group. It wasn't so much that she had some fear of holding up a reputation, per se, the group was beyond that. Everyone knew what Lori had done with Shane, and beyond that Carol knew everyone's secrets, whether or not the rest of the group pretended to know them. She knew that Michonne joined Tyreese in his cell whenever it pleased her, and that Karen also kept Rick company regularly. She'd found the underwear of both tangled up in the laundry and had returned them, quietly, to the correct cells. She knew that Karen was a little embarrassed that she knew this, but Michonne didn't seem to care. She seemed to care very little about most things.

That was what Carol wanted right now. She wanted to reach a point where she just didn't care, but she had no idea how Michonne had arrived at that point, assuming she may have been different before the end of the world, and Carol didn't think she was likely to reach it, at least not before she finished putting away the breakfast dishes.

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Carol had slipped away for a moment, leaving Judith with Beth and Hershel to care for her. Daryl had watch, and he preferred to do it alone. If she was going to speak to him, going to discuss in any way the previous night's engagement, now would be the perfect time. They would have privacy and she would have him as a captive audience.

When she entered the watchtower, quietly shutting the door behind her, Daryl was leaning over the rail chewing at his cuticle. He turned slightly as she entered the door.

"What the fuck do _you_ want?" He growled.

"I wanted to talk to you," Carol said, "about last night."

"Ain't nothin' to talk about, I reckon," Daryl said sharply.

"Daryl, I just wanted…" Carol started.

"I reckon I know what the hell you wanted," Daryl said, interrupting her. His voice was booming now and she could see that he was angry. "You got what the hell you wanted, so what you doin' botherin' me for? Hungry again? Why don't you go see if Rick or somebody wants to fuck you? I ain't got time for that."

Carol could see that Daryl was angry, but it looked like there might be something else there. He was angry, and he'd clearly thought that the night before she'd come to him searching for sex, and sex alone, but was he angry because he'd thought it had been more?

Carol slowly approached him.

"Daryl, I didn't mean…" she started again.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" Daryl yelled. "I done told you once, lady, you ain't my problem!"

Daryl looked like he might lash out at any moment. His movements were agitated.

"I don't think you understand," Carol said, pleading now.

"I understand plenty. Just 'cause I don't read all them damn books you keep squirreled away don't mean I don't understand shit. You come to me an' you got what the hell you wanted and you left. Now you can do the same damn thing and get the hell outta here!" Daryl yelled.

Carol could feel the tears welling up and she fought to keep them at bay. She turned, and walked toward the door, stopping just before her hand touched the knob.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," she said. "I just wanted to be close to you, and it was the only way that I knew how to get close to you…"

Carol let her voice trail off, not trusting the strength of it any longer. She opened the door, pushed it open, and stepped outside, making an escape for her cell and hoping that no one would come looking for her for a while.

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That damn woman got under his skin, drove him crazy. Daryl didn't know what to do about her. It had been her that had come to him asking for sex, and it had been her that had searched him out in the watchtower. He hadn't done anything to her except tell her that he wasn't interested in being her fuck buddy. He didn't need that. He'd gotten far enough in his life without that to be falling victim to it now.

Her final words had struck him, though, and he couldn't help but hear them over and over again. She wanted to be close to him? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He wanted to not give one single damn about the woman, or her tears, but those words mixed with so many others she'd said over the time they'd known each other mixed together. He'd watched, uncomfortable, as she'd not only put down what was left of her husband, but had destroyed any proof with the pick axe that what they'd salvaged had been the remains of Ed. He'd pushed that out of his mind, later, as he'd searched for Sophia and tried to reassure her that girl would be found, in much better condition than that which they'd found her in, and he'd tried to offer her whatever he could when the girl _had_ been found.

Daryl hadn't wanted to admit it, but when he'd returned to the prison, and Rick had told him about the three losses, he hadn't cared so much about the other two. Lori had annoyed the piss out of him, and T-Dog was a good man, but the idea that Carol had been lost had weighed on his mind enough to make the other two not even exist for him.

He didn't even know why he felt the way he felt during those days that he thought her to be dead. It wasn't like she was nothing to him no way. She was just some woman, another in the group, but the thought of her torn apart by Walkers made something in his gut clench.

He remembered the day they'd left the farm, seeing her running across the field, feeling the shifting of the motorcycle as she'd climbed behind him, the first person ever to ride behind him, and knowing that she was safe, even if he didn't know about anyone else.

He also remembered the day he'd found her locked away in that cell, already believing her to be dead, and she'd looked at him a moment before collapsing. He had carried her back, giving her water and crackers, and hoping she would stop looking so pale, so close to being one of _them_, and finally she had.

Now he'd spent a night with her, a night that was the best night he could think of right now, holding her near him, only to wake up and find that she'd left, _like everyone else_.

And yet, as hurt and angry as he was, he couldn't forget the scars. The ones that she had said were nothing, the ones he hadn't pointed out. Her body was as marked and pocked as his own.

She had reminded him, briefly, of a story that his mother had told him when he was very small, before her addictions had completely taken over and she'd become someone alien to him, leaving him to his own defenses. He remembered, vaguely, tracing his finger over the soft skin of a ridge of a scar that she had on her shoulder and she'd told him the stupid story of the china doll. He could never remember the story, at least not entirely, but he could never forget it either. Something about that damn china doll had followed him around for more years than he liked to think about.

The china doll had cried out in fear. She hadn't wanted to be broken because she lived in some fairy land where china dolls that got broken weren't beautiful no more. Even though they got glued back together, there was always a scar where they'd been broken, and the scars made them ugly. Daryl couldn't remember who the doll thought was going to break her, but he remembered that she didn't want to get broken, because the scars wouldn't ever go away.

Last night Carol had reminded him of the damn china doll, except the scars were already there. Daryl hadn't thought they'd made her any less beautiful either, but that didn't matter anyway. It didn't matter what he thought of them. Or at least he didn't think it mattered.

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Carol was surprised when Daryl showed up outside her cell door before he should have been off watch. She quickly tried to hide the three handkerchiefs that she'd either been using or wringing in her hands while she regretted having made the move that she made the night before.

"Can I come in?" Daryl asked.

"Of course," she said softly, hoping that her voice didn't give it away that she'd been crying since she'd left the guard tower.

Daryl entered the room and awkwardly sat on the bed next to Carol.

"You wanna tell me what them lines is from?" Daryl asked.

Carol knew he was referring to the web-like collection of scars.

"Do you want to tell me how you got the scars on your back?" She countered.

Daryl was obviously uncomfortable, but Carol was unwavering. No one wanted to discuss their scars, especially once they'd healed. She'd been trained for years to hide the hurt, to hide the wounds, and to hide the healing. She hadn't been taught to talk about it, and she wasn't entirely comfortable talking about it now, even though it was a hideous memory that she faced each time she saw herself in a mirror or touched her own body.

"My daddy," Daryl offered, being as vague as possible. Carol could see it was difficult for him to admit that much. He would understand, then, that she didn't want to offer details of how the marks on her body came to bed.

"My husband," she offered, quietly.

"Listen," Daryl said after a minute, "I just ain't comfortable with this."

"With what, Daryl?" She asked, choking back the sob that was rising in her throat.

"With just bein', you know, someone that ya just come to when ya needin' somethin'," he finished, looking at his foot which he drug against the floor of her cell.

"I never meant it to be that," Carol said, letting the sob loose.

To Carol's surprise Daryl wrapped her in his arms and pulled her toward him, burying her face in his chest for a second.

"But ya left," he said. Something in his voice told her that he hadn't said _all_ that he was thinking, but she could imply the rest.

"I only left, Daryl, because of Judith. She started crying and I knew she'd wake the prison if I didn't get back to check on her," Carol offered. "I wanted to stay there. I never wanted to leave."

Daryl was quiet, but he hugged her to him, squeezing her a little tighter, and Carol hoped that meant that he understood what she'd been trying to say before. She also hoped that it meant that he'd felt the same, and was as glad to hear the confirmation from her as she was to feel it in his strong arms wrapped around her body.

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**AN: Just as I own nothing from The Walking Dead, I also own nothing from the works of L. Frank Baum, from whom the roughly told story of the china doll comes. **

**Please review if you feel so inclined. They spur me on to continue with our little tale. **


	5. Chapter 5

The following two days had been awkward at best. Carol wasn't sure how to read Daryl before everything had happened, and she certainly wasn't sure how to read him now. When he had come to her, wanting to confront her about her disappearance after they'd had sex, she'd been sure that he was saying that he wanted more, but nothing in his body language since then had indicated it. If anything he'd begun to pull away worse than he had before. Now he shifted uncomfortably when she sat next to him, and she thought it might even be noticeable to everyone else. She didn't dare touch him because when she made any move in his direction he seemed to turn away from her.

She'd resigned herself to waiting him out, hoping he was just sorting through some thoughts, sorting through some emotions. He'd done that before, pulled away and then come back, and she could only hope that this was no exception to that rule.

She certainly hadn't ventured back to his cell, and he hadn't returned to hers. Their paths seemed to cross less now than they ever had, as though he was avoiding her.

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Daryl wasn't sure what to do about Carol or what to think about her. He'd thought she might come back to his cell. She'd said that she hadn't wanted to leave it, but she surely didn't seem anxious to return to it. He'd even waited up a little, listening to the sounds of Rick putting Judith down, holding his breath to hear her footsteps, but they hadn't come.

She was always looking at him kind of funny, at meal times, like she expected something from him, and he didn't know what it was that she expected. She'd look at him just out the side of her eye, and when she caught him looking back at her she would turn to face him full on, wearing that little hint of a smile. Daryl felt sure that he was supposed to know what that smile meant, but he sure as shit didn't. What he worried about most was that she was going to expect something out of him in front of the others, and if she did, and he didn't know what to do, then everyone else would see it and they'd know that he was too dumb to figure out what they probably all knew how to do.

He felt like maybe it was his turn, like he was supposed to do something. She'd come to his cell, she'd known exactly what to do. She'd known how to make him feel _that way_, and even though he'd been with that hooker and them two girls before, he hadn't felt _that way_ with them. She'd even thought to bring the condom and Daryl wouldn't have thought of that. It was a good thing to think of, he knew that now, but he wouldn't have thought of it. The only time he'd ever even had a box of condoms was once when he was young and didn't know what they were for. He'd made water balloons out of them with some of the boys that lived near him. They didn't have them around his house, Merle never used them.

_Probably why he got the clap so damn many times._ Daryl thought.

He didn't think Carol had the clap, and he knew he didn't, but he knew enough now about women to know that if they weren't careful she could end up like Lori, and no one needed to end up like Lori. The fact that Carol knew to bring the condom with her showed she was already smarter than Lori was.

But now Daryl felt like he was supposed to do something, he was supposed to make some kind of next move, but he didn't know what it was.

He knew that the others _knew_ what they were doing. Tyreese had known enough to keep Michonne trotting back and forth between their cells, everyone knew about that. Rick had known how to even get married to Lori and now he had Karen, so he'd been good enough at this stuff to get two women. Even that damn Glenn, hairless and baby faced as he was, knew what the hell to do to get Maggie to come back. But Daryl didn't have a damn clue what he was supposed to do and he was worried that the others were going to figure that out.

Who the fuck would have taught him that anyway? His daddy never taught him nothing but how to judge a drunk from a hundred paces and how to find a good place to hide until he stumbled out the door to do the shit that landed him in the joint for a while, giving Daryl a break.

He certainly wouldn't have learned it from Merle. Merle didn't want anyone coming back. He did everything he could not to get to the step that Daryl was at now.

"Do you have something you want to talk about?" Rick asked. Daryl snapped out of his thoughts. He was on watch with Rick, but Rick was doing all the real watching for anything.

Daryl did want to talk about, but his pride kept him from admitting the problem. He chewed at the stale peanuts he was eating and considered it a moment. Rick would know what he was supposed to do now, what Carol was expecting from him, but he didn't want to admit to Rick that he was clueless.

"Nah, man," Daryl said.

Rick eyed him for a minute.

"You sure?" Rick asked. "You seem a little distracted, Daryl. Something going on?"

"Nah, Rick, ain't nothin' goin' on, I was just thinkin' 'bout the Governor and when he might be back," Daryl lied.

"There's no telling," Rick said, "but we'll be ready for him, when he does come back."

"Yeah," Daryl grunted.

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Carol was still awake, in bed, and reading through one of the creased romance novels that she'd read a thousand times. She felt like she could recite the thing by heart, but books weren't something she often asked for when people went out for runs. It was only every now and again that Maggie brought her something back, knowing that she filled the long hours of the night with whatever she could find to read.

Carol heard something outside her cell and sat up a little closing the book against her finger. Daryl appeared in the doorway and stood there awkwardly, his hand holding onto the bar.

"What is it, Daryl?" Carol asked.

He stood there a moment more, scuffing his boot on the floor, sometimes looking at it and sometimes glancing at her sideways.

"Can I come in?" He grunted.

"Of course," she said, sitting up and drawing her legs up. She quickly put the book to the side and nervously bumped her lamp. She grabbed for it, steadying it, and waited for the dancing light to get still again.

Daryl came in, squeezing past Judith's crib and sat on the bed just below her feet.

"What's on your mind?" Carol coaxed.

Daryl regarded her a minute and she realized she hadn't prepared at all for him to appear at her cell door. She'd shucked her pants upon crawling in bed, but she hadn't changed her shirt out for her gown nor removed her bra since Rick had been in there putting Judith down. She'd just pulled the covers over her and read while he was tending the baby.

"I just was wonderin'…" Daryl started.

"What were you wondering?" Carol probed, softly.

"I was wonderin' what I'm s'posed to do now? I mean I know it's prob'ly my turn, but I ain't exactly sure what I'm supposed to do," Daryl explained.

Carol smiled at him. She was pretty positive she knew what he was proposing, and it was the sweetest way that she could imagine anyone proposing it.

"What do you want, Daryl? Just tell me what you want," Carol said, sitting forward a little.

Daryl sat there for a moment before reaching over and tugging at her shirt. Carol smiled at him again.

"Let me help," she offered. She pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor, realizing suddenly that the bra she was wearing was not the nicest looking thing ever. It was too late now, though. "Is that what you wanted, Daryl?"

He didn't respond vocally in any way. Instead she felt his hands, both of them, close tight around her ribcage for a moment, pulling her a little closer to him, and into an awkward sitting position. Daryl kissed her roughly and she responded, pulling her head back far enough that his tongue didn't gag her the way it was threatening to. Eventually he would learn what was too much, but she wasn't trying to embarrass him, and she didn't want him to think there was anything wrong with the way he was doing anything just yet. There would be time for her to tell him these things, once he was more comfortable, assuming that this happened more often.

Carol expected him to start fumbling with her bra, but he didn't do so immediately, so she continued to kiss him, feeling his calloused hands scratching across her skin. He finally pulled away from her, and she sat looking at him, feeling her lips burning slightly.

Daryl's fingers trailed gently over the spider web again and Carol sucked in her breath. She wanted to tell him to leave it alone, but she didn't dare. She was surprised when he stopped rubbing his fingertips over her side and stomach and grabbed her by the shoulders, probably much more roughly and turned her around, forcing her to try to quickly turn her legs to keep from falling into his lap. Quietly she felt his hands explore the scars on her back and she closed her eyes. Those were scars she hadn't looked at in a long time, and had tried not to look at even when she commonly had access to a mirror.

"The hell?" He asked, his fingers wandering about.

"I'm sorry," Carol said softly in response.

"The fuck you sorry for?" Daryl asked suddenly, pulling her back around to face him and holding her by the top of her arms. "What the hell did he do to ya anyway?"

"It's nothing," Carol said, "I'm sorry."

She was aware of what the scars looked like and she knew that they were shocking and disgusting. She wasn't surprised and she didn't hold it against him that he thought the same thing.

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Daryl regarded the woman, her eyes brimming with tears, and he wasn't sure what to do. Tears made him uncomfortable and this woman cried more than he'd ever seen anyone cry.

"You sure do say ya sorry a lot," he said. "I ain't asked ya ta be sorry, I asked ya what the hell that asshole done ta ya," he said.

He didn't want to hear her reply, it would probably be just another apology.

"I understand, Daryl, you don't owe me an explanation, Beth, Tara, they'd be better for you," Carol said.

Daryl heard that part, but he hadn't heard what had come before it. He stopped a moment, confused. Beth was just a kid, and a whiny one at that. She'd tried to off herself just because they'd put down a barn full of Walkers and she'd known some of them. Her ma had been on them, sure, but she'd tried to off herself over a half starved Walker. That had been the same day they'd put down…

Daryl shook his head for a moment. Tara was a new girl, about Maggie's age, but nonetheless green and annoying. She was too damn peppy for Daryl to stand her more than a few minutes and he couldn't figure out what the hell they had to do with him wondering what the hell that scumbag Ed had going on in his head. Daryl wished, for a moment, it had been him that had beat Ed's head in before Shane had got to him.

"The hell Beth an' Tara got to do with anything?" Daryl asked, finally.

Carol had pulled away from him then, pulling her blankets up around her shoulders.

"Just go," she said. "I'm not going to be mad, Daryl, just go. They're better for you, and both of them have been looking at you," she said. "If you let either one of them know you were interested then you could have your pick."

Daryl regarded her another moment, still shocked that she'd pulled away from him in such a way. Then he realized that he'd crossed a line. Even though he wanted to know what had happened to her, what had caused her scars, because he wanted to know what she'd been through, she didn't see it that way. She saw it as judgment. Suddenly he was the one that felt _sorry_. She'd been the only person to ever see his scars, to run her hands over them and never pity him for them. Now he had done to her exactly what the china doll in that damn story was afraid of and he'd asked her about hers.

"I'm sorry," he offered, reaching for her and catching her, though she tried to pull away. "I won't ask no more if you don't wanna tell me 'bout 'em, honest," he said.

After a moment she let him pull her closer and he hugged her until she stopped making the noises that stung him.

"I didn't mean nothin'," he tried to explain. "I was just sore that he done that to ya."

Daryl didn't believe in hitting women, if it could be avoided in any way, though he'd seen his share of abused women. Most of the women he knew, though, that had been hit on by men, were rough spoken, rough skinned, bar going women that tangled with men on purpose. They weren't ladies like Carol was and they weren't delicate and soft spoken. The women he'd known were likely to be the first to throw a punch, but he could never imagine why anyone would want to hurt Carol.

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Carol wasn't sure how to respond. She knew that the younger women in the prison looked at Daryl now. He was a handsome man, and a good pick if they were looking for someone these days. She couldn't blame the girls. She also knew that they were more attractive than her, and had better bodies. They would have more to offer him physically than she did. She didn't have much of anything to offer.

She wasn't sure what to do at this point, and she wondered if he would go, but when his mouth came crashing in upon hers, choking away her breath, she responded to his kiss, sighing into his mouth without meaning to do so. His arms were wrapped around her, tightly, and the strength she felt in them didn't feel threatening at all. It felt _safe_. She felt herself relax involuntarily.

Daryl fumbled then with her bra and she reached around, her mouth still connected with his, and freed her breasts. His hands descended upon them and moment later his mouth separated from hers and followed his hands.

He stopped for a moment and Carol watched him, panting. He stripped himself as quickly as he could of his clothes, not seeming ashamed of his nudity like he once had been, when he'd been injured looking for Sophia and had covered himself when she'd come to bring him food. Now he didn't seem to care, at least for the time being. He quickly crawled under the covers that were covering her legs and straddled her, his mouth finding its way back to her nipples and her hands pulling at her panties.

Trying not to disturb him much, Carol tried to move around enough to wriggle free of the underwear, using her legs to move them the rest of the way down and slide them over the side of the bed. She could feel Daryl's erection against her thigh and when he dug his fingers roughly into her, she only responded by digging hers into his back.

"You got another one 'a those things?" He panted, coming up toward her face again.

"Yeah," she stammered.

Carol pulled herself from under him only slightly to dig in the bedside drawer long enough to come back with one of the foil packages. Daryl quickly put it on him and she felt his fingers digging into her thighs, Daryl having made no comment. She spread her legs as far as she could, granting him access and wrapping them around him.

As he began to thrust, as erratically as before, she caught his hips with her hands.

"Take your time," she panted, "I'm not going anywhere."

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Daryl understood when Carol whispered to him to "take his time" that she wanted him to slow his movements and he did his best to respond. At least she was telling him something.

He wasn't positive if he was doing this correctly, but she seemed to like it and he could feel her legs wrapped around him, driving him on. He only hoped that he could hold out until she'd gotten to where she was going, hoping he could deliver well enough to get her there.

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Carol didn't know if Daryl was good or bad at sex. She'd only been with Ed in her life before Daryl, and she'd hardly ever remembered thinking anything with him was _good_.

What she knew now was that good or bad, what was happening was nothing like what she'd read about in the novels, but it was everything she'd hoped it would be and better. She felt herself building up and for just a moment she'd been self-conscious about allowing herself to go over the edge. Then she realized that Daryl wouldn't embarrass her about the sounds or the facial expressions, as he hadn't the time before, and she let go, savoring every single throb of feeling that overwhelmed her.

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Carol had finally cried out, grasping roughly at his neck, her mouth against his skin, and Daryl felt almost _rewarded_. He could feel her muscles clenching around him and he decided he could return to a rhythm that more suited his needs, finally reaching his own climax.

When he'd gathered his senses, Carol was lying under him and he freed himself from her enough to relieve her of his weight. He planted a kiss on her that he'd intended for her mouth, but it had been more the corner of her mouth. He sunk next to her, his arm draped over her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest. He kissed the side of her face and dropped his head, panting into her neck.

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Carol didn't know quite what to do. As she came to her senses she reached over and switched off her lamp. Daryl seemed to already be asleep and fatigue was taking over for her as well.

She dropped her arm around him, realizing that one of his was across her chest and one of his legs was hooked in hers, him having clumsily dropped the discarded condom on the floor beside them just moments earlier.

She swam, for a moment, in and out of sleep. She was so happy, but so afraid to let herself go too far. Daryl was asleep, that much was true, but now it was up to him what happened. He would decide if he went or if he stayed. She was close enough to Judith to sooth her if she needed it. He would be the one to make the call as to whether or not he journeyed back to his cell for any part of the night.

As Carol sunk into sleep, feeling his weight against her, she hoped he would choose to stay there, but she was determined not to let herself get her hopes up. There was still much about this man that she knew that she didn't understand yet.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: OK, it's short, and I'm sorry for that…but the good news is that I think for a little while I've figured out where I'm going. That means that at least I have some idea where this fic is headed…at least for a bit!**

**I hope you enjoy this little tidbit and I'm sorry for the length!**

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When Carol woke up, she had two sensations that were invading her mind. The first was the realization that her left arm and leg were completely numb. She woke, turning her head a little, and realized that the reason for this was because Daryl was sleeping halfway on top of her and cut off her circulation. The other sensation was that she was being watched, she jerked her head, looking toward the outside of the cell and saw Hershel scuttling away.

"Is something wrong?" She hissed.

Hershel stopped and turned back.

"Rick said you weren't coming to breakfast when he came in with Judith, I just thought you might not be feeling well," Hershel said, "but I can see that things are just fine."

Daryl stirred then, sitting up a little. It was clear that he had no idea really what was going on.

"Good morning, Daryl," Hershel said as he hobbled out of sight.

"Fuck!" Daryl growled.

Carol immediately felt her heart sink. He'd stayed the night, but he hadn't meant to stay the night, or either he hadn't meant to be caught doing it. Carol was sorry that Rick, and now Hershel, and who knew how many other people knew that they'd spent the night together. Daryl was a sensitive man, and he would likely be sensitive about this. She didn't know what that mean to _them_ or whatever there was between them, she being still unsure about what was going on.

Daryl crawled over Carol and dressed in the cell, not saying anything. She wished, almost, that he would say anything, even if the words were hurtful or something she didn't want to hear. At least if he said something she would know what he was thinking, but he remained silent. She decided not to push him and went about dressing herself, trying not to bother him. He left the cell silently, not offering her anything, and she reluctantly finished dressing and headed toward the dining area to get breakfast.

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When Carol got in there, Daryl was already eating, his head down over his plate. She took her own plate from Beth, thanking her, and wondered if she should join him or sit elsewhere. She finally decided to join him in order to gauge his reaction. When she sat down he didn't respond at all, he just kept shoveling in his food.

"It's about time," Rick said from across the table.

Carol could feel the warmth invading her cheeks. Daryl shoveled more quickly.

"I mean we all wondered when you two would get on about it," Rick said.

"Man, shut the fuck up!" Daryl said sharply, quickly rising from the table.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, son," Hershel offered. "No one thinks anything bad about it."

"Man, I can't take you and all your damn gum flappin'!" Daryl said. He stormed out of the room and Carol dropped her eyes, attempting not to make eye contact with anyone else, but also realizing that she had quickly lost interest in her breakfast. Daryl had gone off halfcocked and there was no telling where he was going or what he was up to.

"Carol, I'm sorry," Rick started.

"Don't," Carol said. She was humiliated enough. She didn't need anyone adding to it. She got up from the table and left the room, hoping to find Daryl.

What she found was Daryl streaking out across the courtyard, his crossbow on his back.

"Daryl, wait!" She called.

"I'm goin' huntin', get the fuck back inside," he called.

Carol stopped. She went back in, aware that the dining room full of people was probably talking about her, about him, about _them_. Now they'd ruined whatever chance they had of anything, and she was bitter about it. She went straight to her cell, not wanting to deal with any of them or with any of their ridiculousness.

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Daryl sulked around, looking for something that he could take back for dinner, something that would justify the time that he was spending out here.

Now that they knew, they _all_ knew. Daryl knew there was no such thing as privacy at the prison. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He liked Carol, he really did, but he wasn't going to like them hounding him. He didn't know what he was feeling.

Carol made him feel different than anyone he'd known before. She made him feel like he was special or important. Like she wanted him around. He wasn't good with women, though, and he didn't know how to read them. She had sex with him twice, and he could say that was something he'd never done before. He'd also slept with her, woke up on top of her, wrapped up in blankets. He'd never woken up with a woman before.

The only thing he really knew right now for sure was that he wanted to protect her, to keep her from getting hurt, by the Walkers or by anyone else. He'd wanted to protect her even before she'd told him that having sex with him wasn't just about the sex, but right now he wanted to protect her even more.

But if it wasn't just about the sex, then what was it really about? Daryl didn't really know much more than that. He wasn't good at all that other mess. He knew he wasn't like Rick and he wasn't like Glenn. He doubted he could ever make Carol act around him the way that he'd seen women act around them, and he wasn't sure if he'd want her to even if he could.

It annoyed him that he didn't know what he wanted or what he felt. Whatever it was that was bothering him was complicated, and that pissed him off. He didn't need complications, not now, not when the world had gone to shit, he'd lost his brother, and the Governor's crazy ass was out there, _lurking_. Right now he didn't need complicated. He needed to get rid of the fucking Governor and not have that hanging over his head any longer.

And he needed to find something to take back to the prison for dinner.

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Carol tried to pull herself together.

What was she doing anyway? Sobbing into her pillow like she was back in high school because Daryl had stormed off after some of the others teased him at breakfast? She was beyond this. They were all beyond this.

Daryl didn't want the others to know that he'd slept with her, and that was fine. She knew she wasn't a blue ribbon prize for any man, and she couldn't blame Daryl for being embarrassed that they'd gotten caught. Who would want the others to know that out of the choices, although limited, afforded to them by the new Woodbury group, they had chosen _her_?

Carol wiped her eyes and tried to steady herself, fighting back the urge to break into another uncontrollable round of sobs that she'd have to stifle with the damp pillow.

Daryl wanted something from her, but he didn't want the others to know. She shouldn't blame him for it. She was a big girl and she should be able to shoulder these feelings. He wasn't prince charming, and he'd never be that. She didn't want him to be that. That would change, to some degree, who he was.

Still, she had to admit that right now she'd have preferred the pains of any of Ed's tortures to the pain that she felt in her chest right now. She was ashamed of herself, and ashamed of the way that she was allowing this to overtake her.

She swallowed hard, gulping in air, and resigned herself to the fact that they'd run him off. Whatever it was that he thought he wanted from her, he surely wouldn't want at the expense of the ribbing given to him by the group.

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Daryl brought in the deer that he had killed, struggling to get it past the Walkers until Glenn and Maggie were able to help him make it inside the prison fences. He dropped it off with Carol and the others that were going to clean it and prepare dinner for everyone, but he hadn't spoken to Carol. He'd tried not to speak to anyone. He felt like their eyes were burning into his skin, so he'd excused himself quickly and gone to clean up.

He'd also tried not to listen to anyone at dinner. Their idle chitchat held little interest for him and he didn't want to be reminded of the morning.

He just wanted everything to be quiet, and he knew that wouldn't happen until after sundown. Just after finishing his dinner he excused himself and retired to his perch.

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"Goodnight, Carol," Rick said, having finally gotten Judith to sleep. He put her in her crib and dismissed himself. As he exited, he noticed Daryl standing not far from the entrance to Carol's cell, hanging at the bars. "Night, Daryl," he said, leaving without another word so he wouldn't disturb whatever was going on, like he obviously had earlier.

Carol's heart skipped a little at hearing Rick utter Daryl's name. He was close by, at least. She instinctively pulled the covers around her and waited for a moment, wondering if he'd come to her cell or if he was merely passing in the corridor.

He did appear, though, looking just as shy and awkward as he always did, and she felt herself smile for a moment, struggling to get control of it.

"Can I come in?" He grunted.

"Always," Carol said, patting the bed beside her legs.

Daryl came into the cell and sheepishly sat down, looking momentarily at Judith sleeping in her crib.

"I'm so sorry about this morning," Carol offered. She didn't know what else to say. If she could rewind things, she'd have woken him in time to return to his cell, in time to spare him the embarrassment of letting anyone find him in her bed, but she hadn't been awake for that. She'd slept right through the window of opportunity.

"What'cha sorry for?" Daryl asked after a second. "You ain't done nothin'."

Carol was a little taken aback by his comment and wasn't sure how to respond.

"I'm sorry," she stammered after a second, "that they caught us. I know you didn't plan for that."

Daryl was a little stung. He didn't want them hounding him, but he hadn't really thought that Carol would be upset by them finding him sleeping with her. It sunk in around him, though, after a second. He wasn't the kind of man that story books were made of, and Carol probably wasn't ready to admit to them all that she had offered to have sex with him twice, even letting him sleep on top of her for a whole night, and now everyone knew it.

Daryl got up, shuffling his feet a little, unsure of what to say or how to escape.

He cleared his throat. "I'm gonna let you get to sleepin' now," he said. "You ain't gotta be sorry, coulda happened to anyone," he said.

Carol stopped for a moment.

"Wait," she said timidly, fearing that Daryl would run off at a moment's notice. "Did you have something you wanted to say?" She finished.

Daryl stood there awkwardly and Carol felt bad for stopping his retreat.

"Look, Daryl, I'm not mad. You didn't want them to find out that you had slept with me, and I understand that, it's fine. I know I'm not what you could have, so I'm not upset," she lied.

To Carol's surprise, Daryl stopped fidgeting. He came back and sat on the bed, not speaking for a moment. When he finally did speak, she didn't know quite what to do with herself.

"It ain't like that," Daryl said. "I ain't gonna be no Glenn and I ain't gonna be no Rick," he offered. "I ain't mad that they seen us, but I don't know…" his voice trailed off. "Damn, I don't even know what the hell I'm doin'!" He protested before he took to his feet again.

"Daryl, wait," Carol called, seeing him get to his feet and start toward the door. He stopped and turned toward her. "I don't expect you to be Glenn, and I don't expect you to be Rick. I never did. I guess I just expect you to be Daryl," she paused a minute and a look came over his face. "Whatever that is," Carol said, "that's all I ever expected."

Carol was surprised when he paused a second and then came toward her, his hand clumsily grasping at her shoulders and his mouth crashing down on hers. He didn't respond to her verbally, but it didn't matter. She'd understood from his touch everything that his mouth failed to tell her, even though she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to trust her instinct.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Short chapter. I have a lot in store…but we have to get there from here.**

I never intended this to get as smutty as it did…but things happen.

If you're anti-smut, etc. now is a good time to stop reading…it's not super detailed, but there's enough there…

**Thank you all for your reviews. They really do keep me going! Sorry it's short, but more is on the way!**

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Carol didn't quite know what to do with herself when she woke up. Rick was slinking out of the cell, trying not to wake her. That much was obvious. She didn't draw attention to the fact that she was awake.

Daryl had quietly insisted that he was staying the night with her, slipping into bed, crowded as it was, and had gone to sleep. He hadn't suggested that anything should happen between them, just gone to sleep. She hadn't questioned it at all. She'd merely rested her head on his chest and fallen asleep there, wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat. It had been racing at first, and then it had slowed.

Now she was waking in his arms and he was still asleep, and apparently having very good dreams. Carol studied his face for a moment and decided that he was fully asleep. She decided to try something that she'd actually never attempted before. She eased herself off of him and slid down the bed. She smiled at the fact that through his boxers, the only thing he was wearing, he was very clearly aroused. She hoped, for a moment, that she could figure out what she was doing and took him into her mouth.

Daryl started, and she was sure it was at the sound of her gagging more than anything. She wasn't very good at brushing her teeth without gagging herself, so she wondered what had made her think _this_ would be a good idea. She returned, though, and soon he relaxed.

"What…are…you…doing?" Daryl asked, though his voice was strained.

Carol stopped momentarily and shooshed him.

"Don't stop," he said suddenly.

She smiled before continuing. Something she was doing must be right.

When Daryl came, Carol crawled back up the bed. He looked like he was sulking a little.

"Not good?" She asked, a little worried.

"It was great," he said. Carol couldn't figure out why he was sulking if it had been "great" like he'd described.

"I'm sorry, I've never done it before," Carol said.

Daryl tipped her face towards his and kissed her. She thought to herself that she hadn't even had to pull away from him. Maybe he was learning, he hadn't been so forceful this time.

"It was great," he repeated. "Ain't never had nobody do that to me before."

"Then what's wrong?" Carol asked. Her heart sunk a little. She wasn't sure how to read him, and it seemed like reading him was a constant thing at this point. She just wanted him to be straightforward.

"What about you?" He asked after a minute. "Couldn'ta done much for ya."

Carol smiled and wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm just fine, Daryl. I wanted to do it for you," she said. "As long as you liked it, I'm happy."

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Daryl wasn't sure what he was supposed to do at this moment. He felt like he wanted to do something for Carol. He'd never had anyone to offer him anything that was just for him, and that's what he felt like she'd done just now.

He leaned up on his elbow, looking at her. The cell was still dark, despite the fact that it was obviously morning and in the echoing distance he could hear that others were awake and stirring.

"What if I was to do that for you?" He asked, timidly.

"What do you mean?" Carol asked.

Daryl grabbed her, pushing her back down into the mattress. He regarded her a moment and tugged at her shirt. She leaned up, stripping herself of it in a matter of seconds. He wasn't sure what to do, but he took her nipple into his mouth, his hand trailing down. He already knew she liked when he buried his fingers into her, and he quickly trailed his hand down to her, pushing them in and feeling her whole body respond.

Slowly he let his mouth follow his hands, ignoring the fact that she was covering her mouth with her hand, afraid to let sound escape.

"There's a whole lot going on down here," he said after a minute, realizing that he might be over his head. He had no idea what he was doing.

"You're just fine," Carol panted. He hadn't done much yet, but already she was spurring him on as though he couldn't fail at his mission. He felt himself grow hard again and tried to fight the sensation. This was supposed to be about her. He buried his face in her, hoping he could muddle his way through this, and she responded to him.

Daryl hadn't expected her body to quake the way it had, and when it did he felt a little worried.

"You OK?" He asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, pulling himself up quickly to loom over her.

"Are you serious?" She asked. She was panting and now she was smiling at him. "Better than OK," she answered.

"Ain't never done that before," Daryl said.

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Carol took a minute to get her breath. She tried to ignore the worried face with which Daryl was regarding her right now. She'd never felt the way she did at this moment and she wanted it to last.

"Could have fooled me," she panted. No one had ever done that to her. She'd read about it, heard friends talk about it, but Ed certainly had never done it. It had always been about Ed.

"You got any of those things?" Daryl asked. Carol half sat up in the bed, realizing that Daryl had excited himself during this process. She'd originally thought this was a way to conserve her limited stash of condoms.

"Not too many," she admitted.

"Where'd ya get them from?" Daryl asked.

"I stole them from Glenn," she admitted. His mouth found her breasts again and she felt like she might lose control again for a second.

"Kid can do without some more," Daryl said.

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Daryl had never felt a rush like this in his entire life. He'd tried all kinds of things that Merle had offered him over the years, promising him all kinds of excitement, but the feeling of Carol squirming around under him was something he wasn't prepared for. That was the real high. He wanted to be inside her now, and there wasn't much that would stop him if she allowed it. If Glenn had what he needed, he'd already decided that he'd take it one way or another. What he really needed right now was the woman that was pressed against him, all warm and soft. That was what he needed.

Carol pulled from under him a little and he looped his arm around her waist.

"I'm just getting a condom," she explained, but he didn't release his grip on her. She dug in the drawer near her head with one hand and came back up with the foil package. She offered it to him and he ripped it open, putting it on. He was anxious to be buried inside her, and as soon as it was on, he did just that.

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Carol gasped and realized that Daryl was a man of little warning. She hadn't expected him to bury himself inside her so suddenly, but that was how it had happened, and she rode it out with him, just pleased that he was there, that he was with her.

She hadn't thought about it or meant to come so easily, so quickly, but her own pleasure seemed to feed his and he collapsed upon her before she could even feel like she was thinking clearly.

She'd stifled her own cries with her hand, and he'd held his back, burying his face in her shoulder. She felt his mouth meet her bare skin for a moment and she savored it.

Whatever it was, and whatever he wanted or needed, she knew she was happy to give it.

Carol wrestled back the words that were threatening to come out. What she felt for Daryl was her cross to bear for the time being. He didn't need to know it. She didn't even know if he could handle it. Right now it was perfect and wonderful and she didn't want to mess it up with words. Had it been Dale? Had he been the one that had told the group that words fell short of their mark? If it had been, or whoever had said it, she felt it now. She didn't have the words to explain what she wanted to say.

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When Daryl pulled himself free, he rolled to the side. Carol was breathing like she hadn't had oxygen in ages and he realized he was also suffering from lack of it. He gulped a few breaths and wondered what he was doing, what she was doing. She didn't seem sorry, though. He pulled himself up and kissed her forehead before dropping down again, trying to make sure that his weight didn't crush her.

For a moment he didn't care at all what everyone or anyone thought. He was well aware that the prison was coming to life around him, but that didn't concern him. What concerned him in this moment was Carol, and she looked happier than he'd ever seen her. He breathed for a moment, trying to get control of himself, control of the situation.

"Hey," Carol said after a minute. He looked at her, smiling at him. "Hey, you," she said. He regarded her, but couldn't find the words to respond. She kept smiling.

"You alright?" He asked after a minute.

"Perfect," she replied. Her fingers ran through his hair and for a moment he was proud of himself. Carol liked him OK, and that much was obvious.

He didn't know what was going on, what was happening between them, but whatever it was he liked it, and he hoped it didn't end anytime soon. He'd never done any of this before, but she didn't act like it mattered to her, she didn't act like any of it mattered.

"Hey, you did great," she said after a minute. Her fingers kept digging into hair, tugging at it in a way that he'd never have thought he would have liked.

"Ya did too," he said. She smiled at him, her arms wrapping around him.

Daryl liked that feeling, the feeling of her arms circling him. He liked it more than anything he'd ever felt. He didn't know how to tell her that, though, so he just laid there and enjoyed it, hoping it wasn't something that ended soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I'm going to be going a little AU here. In this story it's after the Governor's attack, but I'm going to be ignoring the bus full of random old people and children, because I just don't want to touch that.  
**

**Instead we'll be assuming that there are only 3 "new" people in the prison: Karen, Tyreese, and Sasha.  
**

**My apologies to anyone who wanted to keep the bus full of unknown people. **

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Carol woke up early. Judith wasn't awake yet, and neither was Daryl. She lie there a moment, listening. The prison was quiet and she could hear the sound of a storm outside. Probably nothing more than a summer rain, but it echoed pretty well through the prison. If anyone was up, it was Hershel. He was almost always up before she was, and that was saying a lot. She decided to get up and start breakfast. She'd been neglecting it the past few days and choosing to spend her mornings with Daryl, but she guessed that now the honeymoon should be over and she should relieve Beth of the job of preparing breakfast, and relieve the others of having to eat Beth's cooking.

Carol paused a moment, looking at Daryl in the dimly lit cell. His head was on the pillow and his mouth was slightly open. He was snoring lightly.

She still didn't believe it was real. It just didn't seem like it could be. All that time that she had spent wondering if he even thought about her, wondering if he'd even be interested in having something with her, and now she'd woken up at least the last five mornings with him in her bed, sleeping peacefully.

They hadn't talked about it, at least not really. She didn't know how to breach the subject and she was certain that he didn't know. She didn't know what she wanted to say, or what she hoped he would say. And so it had gone on this way. At night he would come, like clockwork, to her cell door just as Rick was putting Judith down. Often the two men greeted each other in passing. Rick had not teased Daryl since the first morning that he'd found him there. No one had said anything to Daryl. Carol was thankful that they'd shown that restraint.

Each night he'd come to her cell, and each morning she'd wake up with him there.

Carol had a particular reason for wanting to get out of the cell early this morning, though, and that was that they were out of the foil packages. She'd turned Glenn's cell over, coming up with a few more in the past few days, but as of the day before, she hadn't found anymore. Glenn had apparently caught on to her, perhaps tipped off by the knowledge that she and Daryl were now sleeping together.

The fact remained, though, that she didn't have a single one left, having offered him the last one she had the night before. Unfortunately, Daryl had now come to equate both coming to the cell and leaving the cell with them having sex, and she wanted to be out of the room before he woke up and she had to break it to him that until they found some more, they were cut off. She lamented it, that much was true, but she worried that Daryl would take it even worse.

Carol quietly dressed and collected up the sleeping infant, who woke for a second, but settled back to sleep as Carol pulled her to her chest. She glanced behind her, but found that Daryl was still sleeping peacefully. She slipped out of the cell and started toward the kitchen area to start getting things ready for breakfast.

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Hershel joined Carol just as she was getting ready to start rousing the others.

"Didn't expect to see you up so soon," Hershel said, smiling. Carol felt her cheeks go warm. "I think Bethie can handle the breakfast a few more days, if you had other things to do."

"Is it that bad?" Carol asked.

Hershel chuckled.

"I don't think it's bad," Hershel said. "You're both adults, and it's been a long time coming. I don't think there's any harm in the two of you enjoying one another."

Carol felt her cheeks grow warm again and she turned back to what she was doing, trying not to look at the old man. She didn't respond, not knowing what to say at this point. She was thankful when Beth came through the door.

"Can you help me?" Carol asked. "We need to get everyone up and get them in here to eat. They're all sleepy heads because of the storm."

Carol left the room quickly to go and start rousing the others, brushing past Beth that was looking a little surprised to see her.

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Daryl was a little disappointed when he woke up and found that Carol was gone and she hadn't woken him up. He hated to admit to himself that he really liked when she woke him up in the morning, all soft like, asking him if he wanted something from her.

Daryl had never had a woman in his life like Carol, and he'd certainly never had one that he'd even imagined that would wake him up in the morning, asking him if he wanted anything from her. He liked it, though he didn't think he would admit to anyone. Merle would tell him he was being a pussy. He would tell him that he'd gone soft, and all because of a piece of ass.

And maybe he was going soft, but he was disappointed that Carol was gone to make breakfast and hadn't gotten him up. He wondered, for a minute, if it was because she was tired of what they'd been doing. Last night she didn't seem tired of it, but maybe she was. He was still thinking about it when she appeared at the cell door.

"You're awake," she said. "Breakfast is ready, you should come get some before there's not much left."

"Come 'ere," Daryl said to her.

"What is it, Daryl?" Carol asked. He noticed she didn't make a step forward.

"Come 'ere," he repeated, a little more forcefully than before. Finally Carol slipped into the cell and stood in front of him.

"What is it, Daryl?" She asked again. "I need to get up everyone else…"

Daryl interrupted her by grabbing her wrist and gently pulling her down, toward the bed. He wanted her to sit. She just stood there, a little awkwardly.

"Why didn't'cha wake me up?" He asked.

"You were awake," Carol said.

"I meant 'fore that, you know I meant 'fore that," Daryl said. He was starting to suspect that he was right. She was tired of it, and now she wasn't even getting close to him. He felt sad at first, and then he decided that he wasn't going to do that. He wasn't going to feel sad over a woman. Merle would really give him shit if he knew that he was sad because some woman was getting tired of him. He tried to fight it back.

Just as Daryl was mustering up the emotions that he could wrap his mind around to make himself pull just as far away from her as he felt she was pulling from him, she surprised him by sitting down beside him, his hand still grasped around her arm, and putting her chin on his shoulder, her forehead resting against the side of his head.

"Daryl, I didn't wake you up because I couldn't offer you anything," Carol whispered into his ear.

Daryl felt a shiver run through his body at the feeling of her breath blowing in his ear. He turned his head and his mouth was only an inch from his. He leaned, their lips touching softly. He kissed her softly and then pulled back a little.

"What'cha mean, Carol?" He asked. He could feel himself growing hard and for a moment he didn't care about breakfast or about the fact that people were shuffling past the cell. He wasn't one for showing they were doing anything in public, worried about everyone staring at them, so he hadn't touched her outside the cell. Somehow, though, the cell made him feel like he could do what he wanted, even though there was really very little privacy, and that they were protected from the eyes and ears of the others that would tease him and maybe think that he was a pussy like Merle would because he _liked_ the way that Carol made him feel and the way that she touched him.

Daryl kissed Carol again, a little deeper than before, and she pulled away quickly.

"We can't, Daryl," she said.

"Why not?" He asked.

Carol smiled and kissed him gently, like the first kiss.

"We're out of condoms," Carol said.

Daryl thought about it a minute. He hadn't really thought about the little foil packages as being something that they would run out of. Every time he wanted one, she'd produced one, and that had been all there was to it. Now she was telling him that they were out, and he was trying to wrap his mind around all that meant.

"So?" He asked.

"So, Daryl, we can't have sex," Carol said. "I can take care of you, if you want me to, but we can't have sex."

Daryl didn't like this at all. He didn't mind the other stuff they did, in fact he actually liked it a lot, but he really liked being inside her. Now she was just telling him that they were done with that? He got a little irritated, not with her, but with the situation. That hadn't mattered at all to him before he'd started doing it with Carol, but now he liked it and suddenly they just couldn't do it anymore?

"Can't'cha just take some more from Glenn?" Daryl asked.

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Carol smiled at Daryl, smoothing his hair with her hands. He was taking this hard, though she could tell that he was trying to pretend it didn't bother him. If she was right, she assumed that Daryl wasn't used to having sex with anyone before, and being cut off just as he was starting to enjoy it wasn't sitting well with him.

"I tried, Daryl, but I can't find them. I found a few, but we've used them," she said.

Carol wasn't sure how to interpret the face that Daryl made, but it was a face that she knew wasn't pleased.

"You'll have to get some when you go out for a run," Carol said. "That's all I know to do at this point."

Carol tried to stifle a giggle. She felt oddly satisfied watching Daryl right now. He was looking at her, obviously attempting not to make any expression at all, but underneath his attempt she could see that he looked like a child who had just had their toy taken away. She found it oddly flattering, though she was a little ashamed that she felt that way.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," she said.

"Yeah," Daryl said, "me too."

Daryl leaned in then and Carol let him kiss her, but she quickly got up, afraid that if she didn't he wouldn't have much of a problem convincing her to forget about their lack of protection.

"Come to breakfast, Daryl," she said.

"I'm coming," Daryl said, getting up and dressing in the cell.

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Daryl found Rick walking the parameter. These days he knew that Rick was worried about the Governor. They were all worried about him. He had disappeared after his last attack, but no one was foolish enough to believe that he wouldn't be coming back. The man was very likely insane, and he wasn't likely to give up on the vengeance he had planned for Michonne, nor for his apparent desire to see their entire group ripped to pieces.

The most unsettling thing was that they had no idea where he was or when he'd return. He'd been pretty destructive, and though they'd done their best to clean things up and provide themselves with as much protection as possible, they still had to be on their toes.

Daryl had suggested they go out, scout the area. He didn't feel the Governor had gone far, and Michonne had offered to go with him. He had hoped to find him, weakened by his attack on his own people, and eliminate the threat. Daryl suspected that if they didn't eliminate it before winter, the Governor wouldn't attack until the spring, perhaps hunkering down somewhere with whatever forces he had left. Rick and many of the others thought that wasn't a good plan, thought he'd be anticipating just such a move. They had insisted that they needed a better plan, something more solid to go on. Daryl hadn't abandoned the idea completely, but for the time being it felt like they were just waiting.

As he watched Rick walking around, looking to judge the fences and the protection they provided, he felt like he could tell Rick that they provided very little. It made him feel guilty for a moment that he had something other than that on his mind. Still, if they were just going to sit still and wait for the Governor to attack, then he didn't feel so bad.

"Where's Glenn?" Daryl called, approaching Rick.

Rick stopped what he was doing and turned to regard him.

"He's on watch," Rick said, pointing to the makeshift tower they'd tried to construct since the last attack.

Daryl grunted a response and turned.

"You need something, Daryl?" Rick called after him. Daryl turned and waved him off.

"I'm good," he said.

Daryl made his way to the guard tower, hoping that Glenn was there alone. He climbed precariously up it, thinking that the structure wasn't nearly as secure as what they had enjoyed before. He found Glenn up there, lazily keeping watch. He was alone, though, and Daryl was glad of that.

"Need ta talk to ya," Daryl said as soon as Glenn turned toward him.

"What?" Glenn asked, putting down the binoculars he'd been holding up moments before.

"You got any condoms?" Daryl asked.

Glenn half smiled at him, amused, and Daryl was annoyed. It was bad enough that he was having to ask this kid for some, but now he was going to look at him like that.

"So that _was_ where they were going," Glenn said after a second. "Did you finally run out?"

"Shut up," Daryl said. "I ain't asked ya nothin' 'cept did ya have any." Daryl wished he'd thought of getting some before. He knew Glenn was bad about clearing shelves of them anytime they found a place that had them. Daryl had never taken any of them nor objected to his clearing off the shelf. He never had any use for them, but now he did, and he wanted them.

Glenn smiled again.

"Yeah, Daryl, I've got condoms," Glenn said.

"Well, where are they?" Daryl asked.

"They're hidden," Glenn responded. "I'm using them, that's why I have them."

Daryl wasn't sure which he wanted more, to hide from the embarrassment that he felt over having to ask for them, or to punch Glenn for not handing over the pile of them that he knew he had.

"Man, come on," Daryl said. "I know you got a lot of 'em. You take 'em every damn where we go. Where are they?"

"You could get some on runs too, you know," Glenn said, leaning on his elbows on the railing they'd constructed and putting his binoculars up again, turning away from Daryl.

Daryl felt himself growing frustrated.

"You take all of 'em every damn where you go," he growled. "Where the hell are they? Ain't like you could be usin' all of 'em!"

"What's going on?" Rick asked.

Daryl was surprised to hear Rick behind him.

"Nothin'," Daryl answered.

Glenn turned again, lowering the binoculars. He didn't say anything.

Daryl was annoyed now, and he didn't want to continue the conversation.

"I reckon I'm goin' on a run," Daryl said, turning toward Rick.

"What do we need?" Rick asked.

"Nothin' that concerns you," Daryl said.

"Fine, Daryl, you can find what you want in the bag behind the bunk in the cell," Glenn said with a chuckle. "Don't get greedy, though."

Rick put his hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Ain't nothin'," Daryl said, pushing his way past Rick and heading back toward the prison.

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Carol didn't expect Daryl back at the cell that night. She thought maybe he'd be upset after being told that she was out of condoms, and she wasn't going to let it get to her. She'd gotten the feeling from him, and she hoped she wasn't wrong, that sex wasn't _all_ he was after with her, but she also realized that it was something new to him, and he might need some time to adjust to the fact that it was off the table. She had no doubt they couldn't work through that, but Rome wasn't built in a day.

She was wholly surprised, then, to hear Rick offer Daryl a halfhearted goodnight as he left her cell.

Daryl appeared in the doorway a moment later and then came in, stripping himself of his boots without a word. Carol smiled and pulled the blanket up a little.

"I told you, I don't have anything," she offered.

"I took care of it," Daryl said.

"What?" Carol asked. Daryl was very secretive about their relationship, though everyone knew about it. She couldn't imagine where or how he had come upon condoms without her knowing about it.

"I took care of it," Daryl said. She was surprised when he produced one from his jacket pocket, "I got more," he said timidly. "I can go on a run if we run out."

"Where did you get them?" Carol asked.

"Do it matter?" Daryl asked, stripping himself of his clothes. Carol smiled, regarding him as he left his garments on the cell floor.

"No, I don't guess it does," she said, lifting the blankets for him to slide underneath them. He kissed her hard, bearing down upon her, and she allowed it. She didn't know what he'd done to get the condoms, or where he'd acquired them from, but he'd done the work for them and she wouldn't deny him using them in the manner he pleased.

Daryl only let up from the kiss when Carol started to squirm and he'd worried that he might have suffocated her. She smiled up at him, though, and he felt better.

"You OK?" He asked.

Carol smiled back at him.

"Just fine, how about we try something a little different?" She asked.

"Different how?" Daryl asked.

Carol squirmed underneath him again and he freed her from his weight. She rolled over positioned herself under him, on all fours, looking back over her shoulder and smiling.

Daryl regarded her, swallowing. He ran his hand under her body and squeezed her breast, noticing that after a moment she rocked toward him. He wanted to pretend that he was comfortable with this and that he knew entirely what she expected of him, but he didn't. He thought he'd be fine, though, as long as there was no trick.

Daryl tore at the package he'd scavenged out of Glenn's bag with his teeth and then positioned himself above Carol. She reached one hand back and caught his, pulling it beside hers.

"It's OK, Daryl," she said.

Daryl pushed himself into her and began to rock with his own sensations. The hand that was on her breast followed her own and he tried to imitate her. It didn't matter anymore to him. It was the same thing, the same feeling. It was a good feeling. He was torn only by the fact that he hoped it felt the same to her as it did to him, but he had no way to be sure. The only indication he had was her moaning, and the fact that she rocked back with him, her hand grasped over his as they continued.

He thought that she had reached her peak before him, collapsing a little forward, her hand dropping from his. He'd grasped her around the waist, holding her against him until he'd finished. Finally he'd let go and after a minute he'd joined her on the mattress, ready to sleep.

Carol lifted herself up from the pillow and kissed him slowly. He'd pulled her toward him and she'd wrapped her arms and legs around him.

Daryl drifted off to sleep, not thinking that anything else really mattered at the moment, but hoping she would at least bother to wake him before they had to start another day.

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**AN: I'm sorry if this isn't up to par, but I got a response to another story that somewhat took the wind out of my sails. I just pushed through this one to try to keep going forward instead of abandoning my stories for some sour person. **


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: To some degree in the story I will be "villainizing" Karen. I know from other writers' experiences that apparently some readers do not like this. If you do not care to see her as a "bad" character, especially in the context of Caryl, then I invite you to stop reading at this point. If you're not bothered by the idea, then please continue on.**

**You have been warned.**

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Daryl finished his breakfast in a good mood. Carol had woken him up this morning, just as he'd hoped she would. If he were given his preferences, he would have spent the rest of the day in bed with her, but that wasn't really an option. She'd gotten out of bed, taking Judith out the cell with her, and told him to get ready for breakfast, promising him that she'd make up for lost time that night.

Now he was about to go out on a run with Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, and one of the new people that had come from Woodbury, Karen. Their plan was to go back to Woodbury, make sure the Governor and the two men he had left had not returned, and do their best to clean the place out. They'd been assured that there were large trucks there that they could use to bring back supplies, and Karen and Michonne would be able to show them where much of the stuff would be located.

Daryl was certain it would take more than a day to clean it out, especially if they were going to bother cleaning out the residences, but it would be worth it if they found a lot of things to help them all survive the approaching winter.

Daryl had decided to leave his bike since it made more sense to leave more of them to drive back trucks full of supplies, and by cramming themselves into one vehicle, no matter how uncomfortable it would be, that would be what they could achieve.

Daryl joined the others as quickly as possible.

"I'm driving," Glenn said. The women had already piled in the back seat.

"How you figure that?" Daryl asked.

"I looked in my bag," Glenn said. "I more than realize your method for taking a few was 'two for me and one for you,' so if you want me not to mention that, I'm driving."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Glenn. He hadn't thought that Glenn would notice that he'd taken well over half of the stash. Right now they were residing in a brown paper bag under the mattress in his own cell.

"Fine, but we're splittin' whatever we find in Woodbury," Dary growled.

"I'm fine with that," Glenn said, "as long as I get to do the splitting."

Daryl knew he wasn't going to win this one and he didn't want Glenn embarrassing him by spilling it to everyone else in the prison that he had squirreled away more condoms than Glenn had because he had plans for them. He reluctantly opened the passenger side door and got in, noticing how happy the kid had looked as he'd crawled in the passenger seat. The car lurched forward and they started their journey toward Woodbury.

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Carol had watched as everyone had piled into the car. She understood that what they were going to do was good for the whole group. If what Karen and Michonne had both reported, they'd bring back a lot of supplies that was needed. Food and medicine just to name a few objects. However, part of her worried about the Governor. If he'd gone back to Woodbury, though many doubted he had, he'd be there waiting on them and things could go badly.

Carol had tried to remind herself that they said the Governor only had two men left. If that were true it was three against five which weren't favorable odds at all. She knew, as well, that Daryl and Michonne both were probably capable of taking out three men alone, but it didn't help the worry she felt seeping up in her chest.

What hurt the most right now was the fact that she hadn't felt comfortable telling Daryl to be careful, telling him to come back to her, telling him that she _loved_ him, though she knew she did. She'd held herself back, afraid that any public show of emotion would be too much for him. She'd stayed back with the rest and watched the vehicle leave the prison, and she hadn't told him what she felt.

She could only hope now that he came back, and that she got that chance again, though part of her felt like she was too much of a coward to put words to her emotions. She was afraid that he didn't feel the same way or even that the mere words could drive him away from her.

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Daryl was glad that once they got to Woodbury he'd been paired with Michonne while Glenn and Maggie had taken Karen.

The Karen woman annoyed him and she was a little clingy. Daryl hadn't quite figured out how to shake her off, but he didn't have that problem with Michonne.

They'd found the town abandoned, just as they'd left it, and had quickly brought two trucks to the center of the town. They'd killed at least a dozen Walkers that had wandered in, but other than that there seemed to be no threats.

Daryl had followed Michonne through several residences, the other three agreeing to clear out the larger storage areas, and all of them deciding that the torture areas they now knew to exist would be left untouched. Michonne had no desire to go back to where they had found Andrea, and Daryl could understand her hesitation, though Tyreese and Sasha had followed their instructions and gone back right after the incident to bring Andrea's body to be laid respectfully to rest. He also understood Glenn and Maggie's hesitation, since neither wanted to relive the torture that the Governor had subjected them to.

They were here for the everyday things, the things they needed, and they would leave the haunting memories in the ghost town for the shadows and any unknowing soul that should venture upon them.

Daryl shoveled contents of cabinets and drawers into boxes without thinking. They could be sorted through once they were back at the prison. The goal of the day was to load up as much stuff as possible. As he made his way toward one of the trucks with a heavy box, aware this his silent comrade was behind him with another sack full of items, he realized how quickly they were filling them. This was going to be a good day. Everyone at the prison would be excited to see the haul that they had taken in. The good people of Woodbury had been well supplied, and by any standards those supplies would last much longer with the smaller numbers of the prison group, especially if they continued to ration and control the items as they always had.

Finally, as it began to get later, Daryl caught the other group and told them that they should head back.

"We haven't finished getting everything," Maggie admitted.

"Neither have we," Daryl said, "but I reckon we got enough to last us a few days." Both the trucks were pretty well full of various items. "We can always come back for the rest."

Everyone agreed it was a good plan and Daryl and Glenn each took one of the large trucks to drive back. Michonne and the women loaded into the car they had driven there and led the caravan back to the prison where everyone would be waiting for the spoils that they brought back.

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Carol was thrilled to see the four of them return. Though they'd brought back most anything imaginable, what most excited her was knowing that Daryl was back and that no one had been harmed or even inconvenienced in the outing. She helped the others unload the boxes into one of the offices they'd cleared out in the prison and prepared to start sorting through the contents, fighting desperately to hold back her desire to show any special attention to the man that she knew that everyone knew was sharing her cell.

Daryl had disappeared after he'd helped unload the last of the boxes, and she could only assume that he was on watch or something of the like. She'd joined the others, halfway distracted, and tried to organize their now overflowing storage area.

Finally it had been time to make dinner and she'd gone about it, sorting through cans, bags, and boxes. Beth had helped her and she'd made sure the meal was planned, but still her focus was on Daryl. She felt like, for some reason, she just needed to hug him and feel him close to her. She needed something to assure her that he was home, at least back in their home, and he was safe.

When she'd served dinner, she'd been thrilled to see him accept his plate, though it had been from Beth. He'd glanced over at her though, and her heart had skipped a beat as though she'd been back in grade school and her crush had paid her some attention. She had managed to steady her nerves after that and serve the rest, but her focus had been on getting her own plate and joining him.

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Daryl had watched Carol handing out plates at dinner. He wished he had the guts to say what he'd wanted to say, which would be that everyone should get their own plate and let him eat his dinner in peace with his woman, like Glenn and Maggie enjoyed, but he knew that they'd harass him for such a declaration.

He'd waited as patiently as he could while she'd doled out food, a little jealous of how much attention everyone else demanded of her when he wanted all of her attention.

Finally she'd come across the room and settled in next to him with a plate. He didn't say anything to her, aware that others were watching them, like they always seemed to be watching them, but he did move his hand under the table and bring it rest on her thigh. If she noticed, she made no indication, but Daryl liked having his hand there.

Daryl listened halfheartedly as Glenn had recounted the day to everyone who was around. Nothing had happened, but everyone still expected a response. Daryl was only aware of Carol next to him, chewing silently, her dinner being the last that was served. He thought about his hand upon her leg and smiled when she squeezed it briefly before getting up and excusing herself to start clearing the dishes.

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"I think ya work too hard, woman," Daryl said after he'd settled into the bed with Carol.

"I'm just doing my job, Daryl," Carol said. "Everyone around here has to pull their own weight."

Daryl rested his body against Carol's, enjoying the softness of her skin against his. He felt like he'd lingered for hours outside the cell, waiting for Rick to get Lil' Asskicker into her crib.

"What'cha wanna do?" Daryl asked, burying his face in Carol's neck and sucking at the soft skin there. He smiled when she shivered. Just the feel of her fueling his excitement.

"What do you mean, Daryl?" Carol asked.

"Well, you thunk up somethin' new last night, I thought you mighta come up with somethin' new while we was gone today," Daryl said. He dropped his head, sucking at her nipples, amused by her bucking underneath him.

"What we did last night was hardly new, Daryl," she panted, "and I didn't think of it."

Daryl paused a moment.

"Don't stop!" Carol protested.

"If it weren't new, where'd you know about it?" Daryl asked, ignoring the fact that Carol was squirming now.

"Daryl everyone has heard of that position. It's not like I found it in the _Kama Sutra_ or anything," she said.

"Well I ain't done it, and what's a kaba sucher?" Daryl asked.

"_Kama Sutra_," Carol corrected. "It's a book of all the sexual positions for a couple."

"We got one a' those?" Daryl asked.

Carol had stopped then, just lying flat underneath him, not responding in any way.

"What's goin' on?" He asked.

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Carol didn't want to admit to Daryl that she had stolen a copy of the book from the library they'd found in the prison. She had been interested in it. Her sex life with Ed had been nothing less than nauseauting, but she'd always been interested in the things she read about in the dime store novels that she read when she had time.

She wouldn't have admitted it, though, not to Ed. She'd once made that mistake and had told Ed that she wanted to try something she'd read about. They'd barely been married a year. He overreacted, to say the least, and disposed of all her books, after splitting her lip and giving her a black eye that she had to work a good deal to hide for the better part of a week.

Ed had told her that her interest in those things, her reading about them, made her no better than a whore. He'd said she was disgusting for thinking about them. She was glad she'd never admitted to him that when she thought about them, it was never _him_ that she imagined. It was always some protagonist of one novel or another, some man that she'd made up in her imagination. It was those imaginary men that got her through any kind of sexual contact with Ed, since the longer they were married the longer the thought of him nauseated her.

He'd also punished her if she showed any kind of pleasure in anything that had happened between them, and that was also lessened with time thanks to her disgust with the man.

Daryl was different so far, though. He seemed to like that she enjoyed herself. It seemed like the more she let him know that she was receiving pleasure for something, the more enthusiastic he was about trying to earn more praise from her.

She wondered now what he would think if he knew that she had the book tucked away in the corner of her cell, camouflaged by several other books that she'd picked up, and that she'd studied it alone in her cell, often thinking of him before she'd ever mustered up the courage to venture to his cell.

"There was one in the library," Carol said, quietly.

Daryl stared at her. She couldn't quite read his facial expression, but it looked more like he was expectant than anything else.

"Well, we should get it," Daryl said. "We can see what else they got in there. Might like it."

"I already got it," Carol ventured.

"So where is it?" Daryl asked, looking around.

Carol was a little surprised and pleased as well. She smiled at Daryl.

"Are you serious?" She asked. "You want to look at the book?"

Daryl smiled a half smile at her.

"If'n it's got more stuff in there, then hell yeah," Daryl responded.

Carol hesitated and pushed her way out from under Daryl. He moved to let her get out of the bed and she walked over to the stack of books, burrowing down until she came up with what he'd be interested in. She came back to the bed, sitting down, and thrust the book at him. She could feel herself blushing as Daryl opened the book, tipped it to the side, and starting thumbing through it. She watched him for his reaction, but mostly he looked like he was simply studying it for the moment.

"What do you think?" Carol asked timidly after a moment.

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Daryl hadn't seen anything like this book before. All these pages had illustrations in them, and he tried to imagine himself trying them with Carol. Some of them looked easy enough, and others looked like they might be interesting, but he wasn't sure that he had any idea how to go about others.

"I think we need to start with the easy ones," Daryl said. He held the book up at her. "I don't think I could ever fuckin' _do that_," he said.

Carol laughed.

"I don't think I could do that either, Daryl," Carol admitted.

Daryl flipped through, finding another one that he thought was probably impossible, at least for him.

"How about that one? I don't think I could do that one neither," Daryl said. Carol moved next to him then and he held the book between them.

"I _know_ I couldn't do that," Carol said. "I don't think that was ever intended to be done in a prison bunk anyway."

Daryl laughed at her. He kept looking, now with a more serious intent to find something that he thought they _could_ do. He wanted something that looked fairly easy.

"What about that one?" He asked, finding one that interested him, and one that he was pretty certain they could pull off, even given the constraints of their space.

"You want to do that one?" Carol asked.

Daryl looked at her. She was smiling. He loved the way she looked right now, like she was excited, but she was trying to pretend that she wasn't.

"Somethin' wrong with it?" He asked.

"No," she responded quickly, "there's nothing wrong with it. I just want you to make sure that it's something you want to do."

Daryl smiled at her.

"Well I don't gotta pick just one, do I? I mean I gotta whole bag of condoms now. We could probably do this whole damn book if we put our minds to it," he said.

Carol giggled.

"Ok, we can do as many as you want, but let's pace ourselves. We don't have to finish the book tonight," she said.

Daryl smiled and pulled her chin toward him, kissing her. She leaned into him, returning the kiss, her hands tugging in his hair. He pushed her a way just a little. He was short of breath, and so was she.

"We oughta get this goin'," he said, handing her the book.

"Ok, you scoot back. I've got to get into position," she said, taking one last look at the illustration and dropping the book over the side of the bed.

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Carol couldn't believe that not only was Daryl not judging her, but he was actually happy about her suggestions. She was starting not to feel embarrassed at all about having stolen the book from the library, though she was a little worried about her ability to be able to perform in any way in some of the positions that the book detailed.

At least for now it seemed like they were starting with something attainable. She started to crawl over Daryl, touching herself, trying to prepare herself for the act ahead. Daryl must have noticed because he dropped his hand between her legs and replaced hers, kissing and sucking at her neck. Carol felt herself building up and she struggled to make herself push his hand away.

"Help me out," she said. Daryl took her arm and helped her keep her balance as she positioned herself. She was proud of herself as she lowered herself down onto him and heard him moan. For a moment they were still, and Daryl rested his head against her back.

Carol had not entirely realized the space issue that the top bunk was going to cause, but when Daryl bucked upwards into her and she slammed her head into the bottom of it, she realized instantly that it was going to cause problems.

"Stop, wait!" She called louder than she intended. Daryl froze instantly. "This isn't going to work," Carol said. She reached up and rubbed her head.

"Feels pretty good to me," Daryl said. Apparently he hadn't noticed that she'd just made impact with the bunk above.

"Not the position, Daryl, the bunk," Carol said. "We just don't fit in here like this."

To her surprised, Daryl flipped her over suddenly and she was on her hands and knees on the bed.

"Forget about it," he growled into her ear.

"This is good, too," she said, as he was repositioning himself.

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Carol lie awake in the cell for a while after she was sure that Daryl was fast asleep. She was savoring the feeling of his warm skin against her. She was lying on her back and he was on his side, one of his arms under her head and the other thrown across her body, his legs wrapped in hers in a tangle of sheets.

She was relaxed, but she wasn't quite sleepy yet. She was too wrapped up in the wonderful feeling that was coursing through her. Daryl wasn't ashamed of her, and he didn't think she was a whore. He had liked that she was interested enough in their sex life to get the book. He had been excited about trying out the positions. She smiled to herself thinking how impossible it would have been before all this happened to convince her that she would ever have a sex life she'd enjoy, and less likely one that she would be excited about.

Carol shifted her weight a little, deciding that she should try to get to sleep. She needed to wake up extra early if she was going to entertain Daryl before Judith woke up and she had to get up to start breakfast.

"Know what I'm doin' right after breakfast tomorrow?" Daryl said in a low voice. He sounded sleepy, but she realized he wasn't out like she thought he was.

"What's that, Daryl?" Carol whispered back, wrapping her arms around her own chest so that she squeezed his arm go her.

"Takin' that damn bunk off a' this bed, one way or another," Daryl said.

Carol giggled and Daryl hugged her with the arm that was wrapped around, drawing her closer to him.


	10. Chapter 10

After breakfast, Daryl went straight back to Carol's cell. He regarded the bunks carefully, trying to figure out if it was possible to get the two apart. He realized, much to his happiness, that all he really needed was a wrench and he could make short work of separating them.

Rick passed by the cell with Tyreese while Daryl was inspecting the bunk.

"What are you doing, Daryl?" Rick asked.

"I'm tryin' ta figure out how this top comes off," Daryl said.

Rick looked at Tyreese and they both stood at the cell door a moment longer.

"What the hell ya doin' just starin' at me like that? Ain't'cha got nothin' better ta do?" Daryl growled, realizing the two men were just watching him.

"Um, we were here to get Judith's crib," Rick said. "We're moving it to Beth's cell. I thought things might be a little crowded in here."

Daryl turned around a moment regarding the crib and looking back at the two men.

"S'pose your askin' me ta get outta your way," Daryl said. "You got a wrench?"

"I don't have one, but Glenn has the toolbox in their cell, he'd know where a wrench was," Rick answered. Daryl tried to ignore the smirk on his face.

"Figures, that damn kid's always got somethin' I need," Daryl said. He pushed past Rick and out the cell door to go in search of Glenn and find out where he'd put the wrench.

Daryl stopped first by Glenn and Maggie's cell, but finding Maggie in there, he quickly started out to the yard, hoping to find Glenn quickly. When he finally found him, Glenn was checking the fences for weaknesses.

"You _can't_ be out of condoms already, Daryl," Glenn said as Daryl approached. "I mean there's a lot of racket coming from that cell, but it's not that whole stash worth of noise."

"Shut up," Daryl called back, finally closing the distance between them. "I ain't here 'bout condoms. I need a wrench an' Rick said you had the toolbox in your cell."

"Yeah, but Maggie's in there, you can just go and get the wrench out of the toolbox," Glenn said.

"I think Maggie's sleepin' or somethin'," Daryl said. "I didn't want ta just go in there."

Glenn looked a little annoyed.

"She won't mind you just getting a wrench out of the toolbox. What's broken anyway?" Glenn asked. He looked confused and Daryl knew right away it was because it was usually Glenn that Rick assigned any kind of job where something required fixing.

"Ain't nothin' broke," Daryl said, "I just need the wrench."

Glenn stopped what he was doing and turned back toward the prison, not saying anything to Daryl for the time being. Daryl followed behind him, hoping the kid would just hand over the wrench and not bother him anymore about what he was doing. He could do this on his own.

Daryl waited outside the cell while Glenn disappeared inside. He came out seconds later with an adjustable wrench.

"So what do you need the wrench for?" Glenn asked.

"Ain't none 'a your damn business," Daryl responded, taking the wrench. He huffed when Glenn started following him. "Man, why you followin' me? Ain't ya got fences ta check?"

Glenn was undeterred and followed Daryl to the cell door of Carol's cell. Daryl went in, noticing that the crib was gone. He didn't really care. Beth was better off having Lil' Asskicker in her cell anyway. He didn't get to see Carol half the time as it was between cooking, washing clothes, and tending the baby, along with whatever other chores that she picked up when Rick threw them down. He didn't think she needed to spend her night's taking care of the kid too. He had other plans for the little bit of time that they did get together.

Daryl started working on the first of the bolts.

"You're taking the top off the bed, aren't you?" Glenn asked after a minute.

"Yeah, so? Maybe I am. Carol don't like sleepin' with no lid on her bed," Daryl growled. "She don't like tight spaces," he added, remembering her concern at the CDC.

Glenn snickered.

"That's a genius idea, Daryl, and I'm sorry I hadn't thought of it before, but we both know that it has nothing to do with claustrophobia," Glenn said.

Daryl worked one of the bolts loose and went to the next. He didn't respond to Glenn, but he noticed that the kid didn't offer to leave.

"I've got an idea, Daryl," Glenn said. "These bunks are heavy, and they might be hard to move, but I'll help you get the top one out of here if you'll help me do the same thing in our cell."

Daryl considered it a minute. He hadn't thought much about how much the top bunk of this bed was going to weigh, or how he was going to get it out of the cell on his own. He hadn't quite gotten to that part of the problem yet, figuring that the first thing he had to solve was how to get the bolts out and then later he could tackle the rest. As much as he didn't want to have to do this to two bunks, the extra help could come in handy.

"Deal," he grunted.

"Good," Glenn said. "I've got an extra wrench. I'll go get it and get started on the other side."

Daryl continued to loosen bolts while Glenn disappeared back to his cell for the extra wrench.

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"Come on, let's hear it, how is it?" Sasha asked Carol when they were doing laundry later.

Carol felt her cheeks burn. She was doing laundry with Sasha, Maggie, and Karen and occasionally with the help of Beth. Now their attention was turned because Maggie had brought up the prison's curiosity in what was going on between her and Daryl. Carol wasn't used to being the center of attention like this, and she hadn't been involved in conversation like this since she'd admitted, ages ago, that she missed her vibrator.

"I'm not going to talk about it!" Carol protested.

"Oh come on, Carol, everyone knows what's going on! The prison isn't exactly sound proof. The only reason we haven't said anything is because Rick told us not to. He didn't want us scaring Daryl away before he got settled in," Maggie said.

"Yeah," Sasha urged, "give us some juicy details. Even Maggie shares. It's good for those of us like me that are having to live vicariously."

"Besides," Maggie said, "this has been a long time coming and you've earned the right to brag a little."

"A lady doesn't kiss and tell," Carol said, plunging one of the shirts from the pile into the water and lathering it up.

"No, but a girl sure screams and gossips," Sasha said, "so spill it, just a taste."

Carol tried to hide her smile. She didn't want to gossip about her relationship with Daryl. He was sensitive about it, and she didn't want to do anything that would get back to him and embarrass him. Even if everybody already knew, it was important to her to keep it private. If that was the way that Daryl needed it to be, that was the way it was going to be.

"I'll just say it's good," Carol said. "But I'm not going to say more than that, so you can stop harassing me," she finished.

"Oh boo!" Maggie said, splashing her with some of the water. "We knew it was good, that's not giving us anything! Don't act like not much is going on, I know for a fact he took most of our condoms, and I don't think you two are making balloon animals in your cell at night."

Carol blushed again. She'd known that Daryl had gotten condoms from Glenn, and she knew that he said he had a whole bag of them, but she had no idea that he'd taken so many from them. Apparently Daryl really did have plans to try and make it through the entire book.

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Rick and Tyreese stood outside the cells, distracted for a moment when they saw Daryl and Glenn wrestling a bed out of Carol's cell. The two didn't say anything, but passed through the hallway, Glenn backing and Daryl stepping forward, the bunk between them. Rick peeked his head into the cell after they'd passed, going wherever it was they'd decided to put the discarded piece of metal.

"He took the top off of the bed," Rick said. "That's Daryl for you. He comes up with a plan and he sticks to it."

"It's not a bad idea," Tyreese responded.

"Thinking about breaking down your own bunk?" Rick asked.

Tyreese smiled.

"I just said it wasn't a bad idea," Tyreese responded.

Rick snickered at him. "Please, don't think that no one knows that Michonne pays you _conjugal visits_. She might not talk much, but quiet she isn't."

Tyreese chuckled but didn't respond. He stood next to Rick with his arms folded.

When Daryl and Glenn came back, ducking into the cell for their wrenches, Rick asked them where they were going.

"We're going to do the same thing to my cell," Glenn said. "If you were smart, you might have helped us with that bunk and we might have returned the favor."

"Can I get on in on this one and get a little assistance?" Tyreese asked.

"So this is what we're doing all day?" Rick asked. "We're just taking bunks apart?"

Glenn blushed a little. Daryl didn't say anything, but stood there nervously chewing at his cuticle. Rick supposed that Daryl thought he could play innocent as long as he didn't contribute to the conversation.

"A well-rested army is the best army, right Rick?" Glenn asked. "Some of us could get a lot more _rest_ if we didn't have to worry about those top bunks."

Rick stood there a moment longer and then smirked.

"Might as well, it doesn't look like the Governor is showing up in our backyard today anyway," Rick said. "I'm in."

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When Carol finished up the dinner dishes and bid everyone goodnight, she slipped into her cell. She'd known that the men had been hard at work inside the prison, but she hadn't been really aware of what was going on beyond the fact that Rick had decided that Beth should keep Judith at night to give Daryl and Carol some privacy.

Carol had originally protested the child being put in Beth's cell. She was alone at the time and thought that it was better that Beth not be saddled with her, but now she had to admit that she was excited of not having to think about whether or not they'd disturb the baby. Since Rick didn't think himself capable of taking care of his child at night, she was fine now to let the baby reside in Beth's cell until Beth and Rick took the matter up together.

She had also known that Daryl had said he was going to take the top off of their bunk, but she was surprised when she entered the cell and found that it seemed so spacious, and that he had, indeed, removed the offending upper bunk.

"There's so much space," she declared, finding Daryl in her bed, flipping through the pages in the bunk. He'd piled several condoms on the bedside table beside her lamp. "Big plans?" She asked.

"I thought I'd bring some extra, just in case. Don't wanna go runnin' back an' forth all night," Daryl responded.

Carol wanted to suggest to him that he bring his things to her cell and just move in there, but she didn't dare do it, not yet. Although the truth was the he spent some of his waking hours and all of his sleeping hours in her cell, going back to his own only for clothes and various other odds and ends from time to time, Carol worried that suggesting he move into her cell would be too much for him. It would look as much like commitment as they had to offer these days, and Daryl might not be ready for commitment.

"You did a good job taking the top bunk off," Carol said. Daryl beamed at the praise.

"Weren't nothin', he said, putting the book down beside him. "We done took 'em off most a' the beds in here."

"Oh, did you now?" Carol asked. She came over to the bed and took her shoes off, peeling her socks off after them. Daryl was leaning back against the pillows and she noticed that he'd kept the one from the top bunk and brought the ones out of his cell as well. She wasn't sorry to see them. The prison pillows left much to be desired.

"Yeah we did," Daryl said. Carol crawled onto the bed, stopping a moment to kiss his chest, her tongue toying with his nipple. His hands were on her suddenly, wrestling her shirt off. She helped him get it over her head.

Carol pulled the sheet back a little, realizing that Daryl was completely naked under it, and apparently thumbing through the pages of the book had him already excited.

"Where are your clothes, Daryl?" Carol asked, smiling.

Daryl gave her a half smile.

"On the floor, I took 'em off," he said.

"I can see that," she replied.

"I reckon that's where yours oughtta be too," he said.

Carol leaned down and kissed him and he returned it, leaning up into her. His hand went to the back of her head, pulling her down deeper and she pulled back a little. He was threatening once again to overtake her. She pushed back against his tongue with her own, hoping to let him know that too much wasn't necessary. Daryl fumbled with her bra and finally cursed.

"What'cha gotta wear this damn contraption for anyway?" Daryl growled.

"Calm down," Carol said. She realized she was already growing short of breath just from the kiss and she could feel herself aching for him. She felt embarrassed for a moment, feeling like she had less restraint than a teenager. She reached around behind her and unhooked the clasp, removing her arms and dropping the troublesome garment onto the floor. "It's a bra, not a Rubik's cube," she said.

"Ain't never understood neither damn one of 'em," Daryl said. He sat forward and sucked on one of her nipples, biting down on it.

"Don't bite," she protested. After a moment, though, as he moved to the other, not entirely heeding what she'd said, the pain was replaced by pleasure. "On second thought," she panted, "biting isn't all bad."

Carol unfastened her pants, feeling Daryl tugging at them. She had intended to gracefully shimmy out of them, but it hadn't happened nearly as gracefully as she'd thought it would and she had to actually get off of the bed to get them off.

Daryl smiled at her when she stood in front of him naked. She felt embarrassed being so exposed, but he seemed to like it.

"Damn, woman," he said. He didn't say anything else, but Carol realized that was the best compliment that he could pay her. He flicked back the cover and she crawled into bed with him, his mouth returning to her breast. For a moment she felt like a million dollars. Daryl looked at her the same way a kid might look at a new bicycle on Christmas morning. She worried, though, that it was just the same kind of feeling. She was exciting for him still. She was something new and shiny, and apparently something that he hadn't had before. She just hoped that he didn't lose interest in her too soon, moving on to newer and shinier bicycles.

"Did you find something else you like, or did you want to do what you found last night?" Carol panted.

"I want this one," Daryl said, breaking away from her a minute and finding the book. He'd dog eared the page of interest. He held it up to her and Carol studied it a moment, a little worried.

"Daryl, I don't think I have the balance or the leg strength for that one," Carol admitted. "I don't really want to fall backwards off the bunk and have to explain that to Hershel."

Daryl snickered.

"I'll hold ya hands, woman, you ain't gonna go nowhere," he said. "'Sides, it's my prize for gettin' that bunk off."

Carol eyed the illustration again, still concerned. She wondered, though, if she could trick him with an easier position. Judging from the illustration, it could very well be that all he wanted was her on top, and that she felt she could manipulate into something she could do, without having to achieve the acrobatic skill of the woman in the photo.

"What if we changed it up, just a bit?" Carol asked. She leaned into Daryl and kissed him, biting his lip and tugging at it. Her hand dropped down to tease him.

"Ok," he responded. Carol grabbed one of the condoms from the table and handed it to him, waiting for him to roll it on.

Carol straddled him, easing herself onto him and feeling him immediately buck into her. She smiled, and let herself respond to his movement. This wasn't a position that she was used to, but already she liked it. She felt him draw his knees up behind her and his hands went around her waist, holding her as he continued to buck, his speed and force growing.

As she neared her peak, she was distracted momentarily by Daryl grunting at her.

"Open ya eyes, woman," he commanded.

Carol forced herself to open her eyes, but she didn't stop biting her lower lip. She looked at him and watched his face twist in pleasure. Just as she felt her own release, he grunted his own, pulling her down on top of him in a swift movement.

She lie on top of him panting for a bit, long after he'd freed himself and done away with the condom. Finally she decided that she had no intention of moving. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and kissed it, feeling his calloused hands rubbing up and down her back slowly.

"Daryl," she said after a moment, quietly.

"Yeah, Carol?" He asked. She could tell he wasn't far from falling asleep.

"If you wanted to, you could move your things in here," she said timidly. She didn't know how he'd respond, but she figured that now was as good a time as any.

"I ain't got much," he said after a second.

"Just the same, there's room if you want to," she said. "You don't have to, though, if you don't want to," she finished quickly. Already she was beginning to wish she hadn't brought it up and barely seconds had passed since she'd thought it was a good idea.

"I'll get my bag in the mornin'," Daryl said.

Carol smiled to herself and kissed his neck again, feeling him below her, a human mattress. She longed to tell him at that moment that she loved him, but she didn't dare. The fact that he was going to move his things into her cell was enough for one night. There was no need to push him too far outside his comfort zone. Beneath her Daryl had already begun to snore quietly, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Carol closed her eyes and tried to sleep, lulled by the movement and the calming sound of his snoring, overcome by the relaxation of their recent actions.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: Thank you all for your great reviews! They keep me chugging forward!**

**On another note, this is a chapter where we really begin to see Karen as the villainess that she is. **

**Also, my house has been crazy tonight. I wrote this and tried to edit it, but I'm not sure it's up to par for anything. If it isn't, I apologize and I'll try to do better on the next chapter. I just wanted to get this out and start progressing more in the plot. I'm hoping we have a lot ahead of us! That being said, I apologize that it's short!**

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Daryl sat in the creaking, groaning, makeshift watchtower that they'd constructed and glanced lazily at the parameter around the prison fences. The view was the same as it often was. There were Walkers, there were always Walkers, and as usual they were interested in getting inside.

Below him he watched Michonne circling around the fences, stabbing Walkers through the fence as though it was some kind of boring game that she was only doing to have _something_ to do.

Daryl had already spotted Carol and Beth to the side, hanging out the rest of the laundry that they hadn't finished the day before. He'd let his binoculars linger there a moment, watching Carol work.

He felt like his mind wasn't where it needed to be. He felt like he should be worried about the Governor and about finding the madman out there somewhere, wherever he was hiding with whatever men he had left, but he couldn't seem to focus on that.

Right now he was consumed with Carol, with whatever it was that was happening with her. Daryl didn't understand it. He'd never had a problem before staying focused on the task at hand, and now he felt himself drifting off mentally every few minutes. It was like the damn woman was invading his brain like a fever.

No matter how much he tried to think about other things, his mind drifted back to her. Everything about her. The way she looked when she smiled at him, the way she looked naked. He was even captivated by the way she looked today, hanging out laundry, completely unaware that he was stealing glances of her from the watchtower.

He was supposed to be worried about their safety, but he couldn't help but think that there was nothing he could do up in the tower. The Governor wasn't going to attack them full on. That hadn't gone quite the way that he'd intended the last time, and he didn't seem like the kind of man to make the same mistake twice. Daryl didn't know what he was going to do, but he doubted that he would bother bringing some kind of army up to the prison in the wide open for someone in the watchtower to spot them.

Honestly the smartest thing that Daryl could think of would be if they tried to find the Governor, hit him while he was weak, but that would be a stretch. There was no telling where he was hiding. It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, and Daryl hated the thought of trying to go on such a mission.

Now he hated the idea more than he would have in the past. If he went now, that would mean leaving Carol behind, leaving her at the prison, and that would mean that he wouldn't be there to protect her if something were to happen in his absence.

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Karen noticed that things weren't completely equal in the prison. Most of the women were stuck doing domestic work, while the men were busy doing whatever they wanted to do, calling most of their activities work, but they weren't doing things like scrubbing dirty underwear on washboards, making runs for water, or cooking and washing dishes.

Those were the things that the women were supposed to do, or at least most of them. Karen did notice, though, that the one woman, Michonne, never seemed to have to do those things. It was Carol that called the shots for the women. She was the one that told them all what they were supposed to be doing, as though it was only Michonne who might not be interested in doing all the menial labor the prison group could think up.

Karen didn't care much for Carol. She was too involved in everyone's business for Karen's tastes. She'd been annoyed the very first time that Carol had apparently found some of her underwear twisted up in the laundry in Rick's cell and had brought it back to hers, telling her that she was _returning _it.

The other women in the group didn't seem bothered by her, but Karen found her annoying.

Now, though, she found her even more annoying.

Karen had visited Rick a few times since she'd moved into the prison. He'd been pretty easy to get to know, open to inviting her into his bed. He was apparently working through any number of issues circling around a wife that he had lost some time before the survivors of Woodbury had come there. He'd welcomed the comfort of having Karen in his bed.

Her real interest, though, didn't lie in Rick. Karen's genuine interest was in Daryl. He was rough spoken, and he had a pretty quick temper, but he was nice to look at, and she did enjoy looking at him. She'd been trying to figure out for a while what she could do to catch his attention, but now there was a slight hitch in any of the plans that she had made. Apparently he had something going with this Carol woman now, though Karen had seen little proof of it herself. Honestly she couldn't really imagine what they might have going on. Daryl was a good looking man, and he could definitely have her, so she didn't know why he would want Carol. The woman was old, unattractive, and mousy, certainly nothing that anyone would want if they could have better.

Karen grew more and more bitter about it as she heard the others talking. They seemed to think that it was "cute" or "sweet" that he was banging the woman, but Karen couldn't understand it at all. She figured she still had a chance at him. Probably the only reason he had any interest in the woman was because he didn't know that she didn't consider herself tied to Rick just because she'd warmed his bed a night or two.

"Come on, Carol, you won't tell us anything? I know it was Daryl's idea to take the top bunks off the beds," Maggie urged, bustling about and gathering supplies for dinner the way that Carol had instructed.

"I'm not going to tell you anything," Carol protested. "I didn't like the top bunk. We weren't using it for anything anyway."

"You know," Karen said, finding her place among the women who were trying get everything ready for dinner, "she probably doesn't have much to tell and you should leave her alone, I mean it's just a sex thing, I'm sure."

Karen cast a glance in Carol's direction. The woman didn't respond verbally, but she could see that she was uncomfortable.

"Men do it all the time," Karen continued. "They take whatever they can get for a little release. They'll settle for just about anything to get off until something better comes along. Don't push her for details if she doesn't want to talk about it."

"I'm sure that's not the case," Maggie protested. "Daryl's never been that way. He hasn't made a move on anyone. He's been too interested in Carol."

Karen could see she was getting to Carol.

"Every man reaches the point where he has to give into the feeling, he's done well to hold off this long, I'm sure," Karen said. "What do you think, Carol? Is it something serious? Or do you think that he'd be swayed, you know if something _better_ came along? Not that I don't think you're charming or whatever, but someone younger, someone prettier, you don't think he'd change his mind?"

Karen could see that she'd achieved her goal. Carol haphazardly collected some cans together, making no response at all to what she had said, and disappeared to start dinner. Karen didn't miss that Maggie shot her a dirty look, but she wasn't concerned. As far as she saw it, the truth was that the man just needed to be swayed a little. He needed to realize exactly how vast his options were. His problem until now was simply one of supply and demand.

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Carol was struck by what Karen had said, and she turned it over and over in her mind while she prepared dinner. It was nothing that she hadn't thought about before. Daryl clearly deserved _better_ than her. She'd been thrilled that he'd seemed interested in her, but the more she thought about it, the more it just seemed like he hadn't had so much to choose from. He'd sort of ended up with her, like ending up with leftovers.

Carol felt her eyes sting while she tried to prepare the meal. She wanted to think that Daryl cared about her, but there wasn't any proof for her that he really did. What did they really have? They had clumsy sexual experiences together and that was about it. She couldn't even perform for him on a level that she imagined other women could.

She was certain that if Daryl really was with her, it was simply because nothing better had come along. No one better had offered themselves to him quite the way that she had. Just as she'd feared, he'd probably turn his sight to anything newer and shinier as soon as it was offered to him. The thing that hurt her most of all, though, was that she couldn't blame him for it. She couldn't find it within herself to be angry at him if he did decide to trade her out for something better. He deserved it, and she didn't want to deny him what he deserved if it was available to him.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her arm. She felt foolish. She'd felt liked she loved him, even though she wasn't sure she still had the capability. She'd thought, even for a moment, that they could live some kind of fairy tale life together despite the fact that everything in the world had crumbled. She'd been fooling herself. She'd even believed that he'd cared, was happy when he'd brought the grungy knapsack to her cell that morning declaring it to contain his belongings and she'd unpacked it for him.

Now she realized it was all ridiculous. He was just with her because there was no one else, at least there was no one else _yet_. She wondered if Karen was interested in him, and if she was, she wondered how long she'd wait to show her interest. Eventually she'd make her move if she had one that she wanted to make, and he'd accept it. Karen was younger than her, attractive and confident, and Carol couldn't blame him if he accepted such an offer.

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Daryl wasn't really sure what was going on with Carol. He didn't have a lot of practice with women, but still he thought she was acting strange. He'd tried to save a seat for at dinner, but she had practically ignored him, eating her dinner on her feet while she served everyone else. He'd been stuck, instead, eating beside Karen who annoyed him.

The woman had spent most of the meal trying to talk to him, and he'd realized she had little regard for personal space, brushing against him more than once and trying to get him to talk about himself, not realizing that there wasn't much to tell and there wasn't much he wanted to say about anything she suggested.

When he'd finally gone to bed, he'd gone straight to Carol's cell. Everything he owned was there now, so he didn't have anywhere else to go. He'd stripped himself down to the somewhat dingy boxers that he owned and waited for her, studying the book that she'd given him, hoping she'd come in with a better mood than the one that she wore at dinner.

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Carol came into the cell and found Daryl flipping through the book. Suddenly she didn't want to see him. She didn't want to admit to herself that she'd been foolish enough to think that he was there for anything besides whatever pleasure she cared to offer him. For a moment she didn't want to undress in front of him and have him gawk at her any longer. She'd seen him at dinner with Karen and she'd seen the way that the woman touched him, talked to him, and showed herself off like some kind of peacock.

Carol didn't want them laughing about her together, later. She didn't want him telling the younger woman about how her body looked. What her scars looked like, what her stretch marks looked like. She was ashamed of how she was pocked and marred. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to hunker down in the corner and wait for him to leave out of boredom.

"Ain't'cha comin' ta bed?" Daryl asked.

Carol regarded him a moment.

"I found us one, but I don't know if we can really do it. Looks like this guy's gotta be hung like a fuckin' elephant, an' I ain't braggin' like that, but it oughta be fun ta try it," he said. He was smiling.

Normally Carol loved Daryl's smile, but tonight it seemed like it was mocking her. He wanted her to come to bed for exactly what Karen had said. He wanted to have sex with her. And then what? Whatever it was she hated knowing that he'd talk about it later. He'd tell Karen all about what she'd tried to do and failed at doing. They were all acts that Karen would probably be better at doing, more skilled.

"What's tha matter with ya? Ain't'cha comin'?" Daryl asked again.

Carol didn't know quite how she should react. She stood there awkwardly just inside the doorway of the cell, feeling like the place that she'd been sleeping all this time no longer belonged to her.

Daryl got out of the bed, his facial expression one of concern. He walked over to her and put his arm around her.

"Hey, what's tha matter with ya?" He asked, lowering himself so that they were at eye level. "Ya OK?"

Carol resigned herself to her fate. She'd at least go to bed for the time being, but as soon as she got the opportunity and a little rest against the weariness of the day, she'd address the issue at hand. She didn't want him thinking that she was foolish enough to believe that given a better selection he would choose to keep her, that he would choose to keep such _damaged goods_.

Carol edged her way toward the bunk, fearing she'd break down. She stifled her sobs as best she could, not saying anything. She peeled off her clothes, trying to ignore his plastered on face of concern. When she'd finally stripped down to her bra and underwear, she slipped into bed, facing the wall. She felt Daryl shimmy in behind her and tried to ignore her desire to turn toward him.

"What's goin' on? Did I do somethin' to ya?" Daryl asked as he nestled in behind her.

Carol couldn't find it in herself to respond. She lie right as she was, the tears rolling out of her eyes and down onto the pillow below. She felt his hand drift up and down her arm and wished for a moment that she could believe the tenderness behind his touch. She resolved herself to falling asleep that way, determined they'd discuss it in the morning. As she drifted off, she hated herself for believing that any of it had been real.

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Daryl was beside himself. Carol lie beside him now, finally sleeping. She'd entered the cell looking more frightened and more alone than he'd ever seen her, even before Ed had died.

At least now she was sleeping. He hoped that meant she felt better, but he didn't pretend to know what was bothering her. She hadn't spoken to him at all, and certainly hadn't shed any light on what was going on with her.

He'd been afraid to do anything or make any move. He didn't want to make whatever it was worse. He worried, at first, that her fit had been brought on by some memory or some nightmare, if you could have those while you were awake, of her life before. Then he worried that it was because she was sad to see him there, in her bed. Maybe she regretted all of it. Maybe she wished she hadn't asked him to bring the sack full of clothes and various other items to her cell. Maybe she was tired of him.

Daryl didn't know what the problem with her was, but he decided that the only thing that he could do with her in such a state was to stay there, holding her. He hoped that when she woke up she was better, or at least if she wasn't better, she was willing to tell him what had brought on her sudden change of heart.

He was saddened by this turn of events, having finally found a place where he felt comfortable, but he'd already decided that if having him there was going to cause her to feel like this, he'd pack his bag and move back to his cell tomorrow. He didn't want her to spend another night sleeping with tears dried on her face.

Once he was sure that she was asleep, he closed his eyes, trying to ward off the demons that seemed to attack him most at night, and tried to sleep himself. All he could do now was hope that tomorrow wasn't going to be as bad as he dreaded it might be right now.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Y'all are great! Thanks for all the reviews. I'm glad to see that you're enjoying our little story!**

Y'all were so nice that I decided to update this story for you before I went about updating any of the rest! 

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When Daryl woke up he had the feeling that he'd slept longer than he intended. He'd had a terrible time trying to fall asleep the night before, and once he'd gone to sleep he'd spent most of his night fighting every variety of monster, human and otherwise, that his subconscious mind could possibly dredge up.

He woke up slowly, sitting up. Carol was gone. He was alone in the bed. Slowly the night before came washing back over him. He was still confused and had no idea what he had done to Carol. He searched his memory, but he couldn't come up with a single thing besides bringing his things to the cell, but she'd been the one that had suggested that he do it.

Daryl got out of the bed and pulled his clothes on, determined to find Carol. He didn't know what he wanted to say to her, but something had to be said. He needed to understand what was going on. He needed to know what he could do to fix it, if it could be fixed.

He made his way to the dining area, but he quickly discovered that he'd missed breakfast since there was no one in there. He wandered through the prison, finding Rick and Tyreese working on a project to get the showers working in the prison. They wouldn't be of any help to him. Finally he stumbled upon Hershel tending Judith.

"You know where Carol is?" Daryl asked. He felt like finding the woman was normally an easy feat to accomplish, but right now it wasn't.

"I haven't seen her since breakfast. I'm sorry, Daryl. Is something wrong?" Hershel asked.

Daryl started to walk off, but paused a minute. He chewed at a piece of his cuticle. He wanted to ask Hershel what could make women get crazy and randomly start crying, but he decided that he didn't dare to do that.

"Nah, I'm just tryin' ta find her," Daryl said.

"She might be doing dishes, or laundry, outside with Bethie," Hershel offered.

Daryl grunted his thanks and started out to the area of the yard where they did most of the cleaning. He found Beth there, and Maggie, but that was it. No sign of Carol.

"Y'all know where Carol is?" Daryl asked, walking up to the sisters.

The two girls looked back and forth between themselves for a moment. Daryl didn't understand women, but he wasn't stupid and he could easily catch that it was an uneasy look.

"What? What's goin' on?" He asked.

"Carol left," Beth said. "She went to get water."

Daryl stood there a moment. He had the feeling that he didn't have all the information here.

"She went alone?" Daryl asked.

"Michonne's missing too," Beth offered.

Daryl huffed. He was frustrated and not sure what he should do. Carol went with the others often for water, and if she was with Michonne she should be safe, they didn't have far to go. He thought maybe he should just wait there, wait for her to come back.

"The thing is…" Beth said timidly, pulling Daryl out of his thoughts.

"What?! What is it?" Daryl barked. He saw the young girl jump. "What ain't ya tellin' me?" He asked, trying to lower his voice so that she wouldn't be too scared to continue.

"Well," she stuttered, "they've been gone a long time," she finished.

"What the hell ya mean they been gone a long time? And ain't nobody thought ta go after 'em? The fuckin' Governor's out there roamin' around and he wants Michonne's head an' the two 'a y'all know Carol's out there with her an' you don't think it's a good damn idea to say nothin' 'bout the fact they just disappeared?!" Daryl didn't care that he was yelling now. He was instantly worried.

Beth stood up and came close to him. He backed up a little, feeling like she was invading his space.

"Daryl, I think that Carol's upset," Beth said. She looked like she was hesitating to talk to him, but he _wanted_ her to keep talking. Maybe Maggie had some solution as to why Carol was acting the way she was acting, and right now he'd take any help that he could get, even if it did come from the farmer's daughter.

"You know what the hell is wrong with her?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know for sure," Maggie said, lowering her voice, "but I _think_ it might be Karen."

Daryl was thoroughly confused now. He didn't pay the woman from Woodbury any more attention than he had to. He found her annoying at best. Rick seemed to like her OK, and that was his business, but Daryl hadn't bothered to find out much about her. Now he couldn't imagine what she'd done to upset Carol.

"What the hell'd she do ta Carol?" He asked, aware that they were losing time and there was still no sign of Carol or Michonne.

"Yesterday," Maggie said, "she…well…she might have told Carol that you didn't…_care_ about her, and that you were just _using _her, until something better came along. I think it upset Carol," Maggie said.

Daryl felt himself blushing.

"Why would she say somethin' like that ta Carol?" He asked. He couldn't understand what would motivate a woman he didn't even like being around to say something to Carol about something she had no way of knowing anything about. He didn't know her, and she certainly didn't know him, and she didn't know anything about what he felt for Carol.

"I don't know that, Daryl, but I guess it might be because she _likes_ you," Maggie said. "I could be wrong, but Carol seemed pretty shook up yesterday after Karen did that, and she hasn't been talking to anyone today, and then she just took off."

Daryl didn't say anything, but he rushed back into the prison and grabbed his crossbow from the cell. If Carol was out there, he was going to find her, and he was going to find out if she'd just up and disappeared because of something that bitch Karen had said.

He didn't say anything to anyone, he just made his way down to the gates and let himself out, immediately looking for tracks from the two women that he was following.

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"I know you're behind me," Carol snapped. "You're not as quiet as you think you are." She saw a Walker heading toward her and she pulled her knife out of her belt, waiting for it to approach. She never got to stab the Walker, though, because it crumpled to the ground with its head severed in half a few seconds later.

"Wasn't trying to be quiet," she heard Michonne say behind her.

Carol didn't want to turn around and look at the woman. She hadn't asked her to follow her. All she'd asked from her was that she help her clear the gates so that she could go and get water. She hadn't expected her to fall in step behind her a few minutes later.

"Water's back there," Michonne said.

"I'm going to get it somewhere else," Carol snapped.

She just wanted to be outside the prison. She wanted to be away from the prying eyes of everyone there. There was no such thing as privacy inside those walls and what Carol really wanted right now was to be alone with her thoughts, with her disappointment. She'd woken up with the intention of speaking to Daryl, of asking him what he felt and if there was any truth in what Karen had alleged, but she'd lost her nerve and gone to make breakfast, a breakfast that she couldn't even eat. She'd hoped he wouldn't come eat, and when he didn't show up she'd been relieved.

Now she thought she found the only way that she could be _alone_. She could go for water and disappear into the woods until she was calm enough to go back, until she knew what she wanted to say, until she felt like she was prepared for whatever Daryl might say.

But now she had a shadow following a few feet behind her. Granted the woman was quiet, but she was still _there_, and that wasn't what Carol wanted.

"Why don't you just go back?" Carol asked, shouting louder than she meant to. She realized suddenly that she needed to keep her voice down. She needed to avoid drawing the attention of Walkers, and of people.

Michonne didn't answer her.

"Go back to the prison, I don't _need_ you here, and I didn't ask you to come!" Carol said.

The woman had stopped walking, but she didn't respond to Carol in any way. Carol became aware of an approaching Walker, but just as she reached to pull her knife, Michonne's katana shot out and dropped the Walker. The woman didn't break eye contact with her.

"I could have killed that one," Carol said.

"Didn't say you couldn't," Michonne answered quietly.

"You can leave now, I don't need you following me. I can take care of myself," Carol said.

"I'm just out for a walk," Michonne said. "It just so happens we were going in the same direction."

Carol realized then that the woman was not going to leave her alone, so she resigned herself to the woman's company. At least she was quiet, and she wasn't the prying type. Carol wandered a few steps farther, flipped over the bucket that she was carrying, and sat on it. She tried not to think about MIchonne's presence. She tried, instead, to just think about what was going on. She had to sort out what she felt for Daryl, and she had to come to terms with the fact that he probably would never feel the same for her. She had to figure out how she would deal with seeing Daryl and Karen together, if it came to that, without losing her mind.

She'd come this far, she refused to lose her mind over a man.

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Tracking the two women wasn't difficult by any means. Daryl had quickly found Carol's tracks in the dirt. Michonne was apparently walking lighter than Carol at this moment, however the scattered Walker bodies slashed up like paper dolls that littered the trail more than marked the direction that they'd gone in.

Daryl was brooding. He had no idea what he was going to do or what he was going to say, and he hoped that he could find something right to say whenever he finally found the women. He had long since passed where they stopped to get water, but he hadn't seen any signs of problems, so he assumed that everything was fine. He'd only encountered one or two Walkers, so that also was promising. At least there wasn't any sign of them having gotten overpowered. He kept an eye out for other tracks, but it appeared that the women were wandering alone.

When Daryl finally found them, what drew his attention most was the sound that he knew to be Carol's sobbing. It was a sound that haunted him. He remembered it from all the time that Sophia was lost and they were looking for her. It was a sound that tore through him. It made him want to _do_ something. It made him want to do _anything_ that would make it stop.

He stepped a little farther into a grove and found Carol there, sobbing on a bucket. Michonne was sitting a few feet away from her, leaning against a tree, her katana laid across her lap. Daryl looked nervously at the woman on the ground.

"You can go now," he grunted.

Michonne lazily looked up at him. She remained still for a few minutes. Then she finally got up, took her sword, and walked away, barely making any sound to indicate that she was leaving, or even that she had ever been there at all.

"Carol," Daryl said, walking toward her hunched figure. "Carol, ya OK?"

Carol stopped sobbing, and went to wiping at her eyes. She didn't respond though.

"Ya wanna tell me what's wrong?" Daryl asked. "Ya want me ta move my stuff outta your cell?"

Carol turned and looked at him for a minute and he felt struck. He didn't like seeing her there, looking so sad, just sitting on a bucket in the woods.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do," Carol said, her voice shaking.

"Ya wanna tell me why you're cryin' out here?" Daryl asked.

Carol shrugged.

"It seemed as good a place as any, I guess," she said.

"Might be safer ta do it inside the prison, I mean if ya aim ta do it," Daryl said. "Or ya could tell me what's ailin' ya an' maybe ya wouldn't have ta cry no more."

Daryl watched Carol, but she didn't make any show that she was going to explain what was wrong with her.

"Maggie told me what that Karen bitch said, Carol. Said she was tellin' ya that I didn't care none for ya, is that why ya cryin'?" Daryl asked.

"It's OK, Daryl, you don't have to explain," Carol said. "I understand it, I really do. She's young and she's attractive. I wouldn't blame you at all if you…" her voice broke off then and Daryl closed the space between them.

"What the hell ya talkin' 'bout, Carol? I ain't lookin' at Karen, I ain't never looked at her, she'd hooked up with Rick, I don't even know why she would say nothin' like that no way," Daryl said. He wanted Carol to understand that whatever the woman had said it was ridiculous.

"I _know_ what I look like, Daryl, and I _know_ what I have to offer you," Carol said. "I understand if you want something better."

Daryl walked over to her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her gently to her feet in front of him. He swallowed hard. He wasn't any good at this shit, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do, but he was desperate to wipe that look off her face.

"Carol…" he said, "I ain't good at this, but I gotta try ta tell ya what I'm thinkin'…"

Carol looked up at him, tears still puddling in her eyes. He leaned his face in, kissing her gently on the lips.

"I know what'cha look like too, Carol, an' I think ya look real pretty, an' I know what'cha got to offer me, an' it's exactly what I want. I don't want nothin' ta do with that Karen woman, but I ain't no good at tellin' ya what I'm thinkin' 'cause I don't even know what I'm thinkin'," Daryl said. "I told ya before I ain't like that. I can't be like Glenn an' make all kindsa shows for ya, 'cause I ain't never done that before."

Carol stood there in front of him for a minute. The tears silently started spilling over her lower eyelids again and Daryl thought that he'd said something wrong. He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't like the way that he felt right now. He felt out of control of the situation, and he didn't like being out of control. He'd never been like this before, and he didn't know how to handle it.

He was surprised when Carol leaned up and caught him behind the neck, pulling him to her, kissing him hard. Her other hand wrapping around his back. He shivered and tried to ignore the fact that just the kiss had been enough to make him aroused.

"Are you sure, Daryl?" Carol asked when she'd broken away from him.

"Sure of what?" He asked, swallowing and breathing hard, overcome by the passion behind the kiss.

"Are you sure that you want _me_, Daryl? You could do a lot better…" Carol started. Daryl interrupted her by kissing her.

"You're all I want woman," Daryl said. "I could ask ya the same damn thing, ya know, I ain't nothin' ta write home about."

Carol smiled at Daryl.

"I think you're perfect," she said.

Daryl smiled. Finally Carol was smiling at him. After all the worry from the night before, it was the most beautiful thing he'd seen. He dropped his crossbow to the side and reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head in one quick movement. He glanced at her bra, sure that he couldn't get it off, and he ran his hands under it, grasping her breasts.

"You're pretty damn perfect yourself, woman," Daryl said.

Carol reached around and unhooked her bra, her hands going immediately to his belt as they exchanged kisses in between movements to rid each other of their clothes.

"Do you want to do this out here?" Carol asked, panting.

"Ain't gonna stop now," Daryl said. "Can't stop now."

Carol gave herself over to Daryl. When they'd finally rid themselves of their clothes, aware that they needed to stay close by their weapons in case of the interruption of a Walker, Daryl gathered Carol up, lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his waist. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and gently sucked at the skin there.

Daryl backed her against a tree. He worried that the bark would be too rough, but Carol didn't protest. He shifted her around, finally able to lower her onto him.

"You alright," he grunted.

"Perfect," she whispered into his ear. He shivered. "Are you going to be able to do this? I'm not too heavy?"

"You're light as a feather woman," Daryl said. "Now be quiet, you don't wanta get us no attention out here."

Daryl thrust into her, supporting her weight with his hands. He thought the feeling of her wrapped around him was delicious, and he appreciated the cool nip of the air, a slight indication of the fall setting in. Carol seemed to move with him in perfect harmony and when she finally clamped around him she buried her face in his chest, her arms tightening around his neck. Her cries were muffled by his skin and he finally continued to thrust until he'd found his own release, trying to hold back from crying out.

When he finally lowered her to the ground to stand on her feet, he realized this was the first time that he'd ever seen her completely naked in the light of day. She was even more beautiful than he'd realized.

Carol wrapped her arms around him and kissed his chest.

"Daryl," she said after a minute."

"Yeah," he grunted.

"I think I love you," Carol said. "Is that OK?"

Daryl snickered. He hadn't thought about it before. He wasn't sure that he really knew what it meant to love anyone. He wasn't sure that he'd ever loved anyone or anything before. What he did know, though was that he felt differently for Carol than he'd ever felt for anyone.

"Yeah, I think that's OK," Daryl said.

"Do you love me?" Carol asked, looking up at him.

"I don't know," Daryl said. He saw hurt fill her eyes, and he wanted to correct the situation as quickly as possible. "I mean I don't know what it means to love someone, Carol. So I don't know if that's what this is."

Carol looked at him, still not entirely convinced, so Daryl tried to explain himself.

"This group, everyone, they're like my family," he said, suddenly realizing how ridiculous this was going to sound, especially given the fact that they were standing completely naked in the woods. "And even though they're all like a family that I weren't never lucky enough to have, if the Governor told me today that I could only save on of 'em, I wouldn't even have ta think about it, 'cause I'd give him everyone else, just ta make sure ya was safe, is that love?"

Carol smiled at him and pressed herself against him again.

"I think that's as close as you can get," Carol said.

"Then I reckon I love ya too, woman, but I still ain't no good at this stuff," Daryl said.

Carol laughed.

"I think you're great at it, Daryl. You're doing it just right. Come on, let's get dressed, the others will be wondering where we are. Michonne had to get back some time ago," Carol said. She went to dressing herself and Daryl watched her out of the corner of his eye while he put his own clothes back on. When she turned her back to him he saw that it was scratched up and bleeding.

"Carol, you're hurt," he said. "Ya didn't tell me ya back was gettin' all chewed up."

He was suddenly sorry that they'd done what they'd done. He should have known that dragging her up and down that tree wasn't good for her skin.

"It's fine, Daryl, nothing that won't heal," Carol said. "I needed that, and I think you needed that. The scratches will heal."

Daryl walked over and gently ran his fingertips over one of the scratches.

"They might heal, Carol, but they gon' scar," he said.

Carol looked at him, pulling on the light jacket that she'd been wearing.

"Then they'll be the first scars that I don't mind having," she said.

Daryl touched her cheek and kissed her again. He waited for her to get the bucket and he shouldered his crossbow.

He put his arm around her and started walking through the woods toward the prison. For a moment he was surprised that they'd been out there all this time without having encountered a single Walker. Then he nearly tripped over Michonne, who was leaned against a tree, apparently waiting on them.

"Ya been there the whole time," Daryl asked, looking down at the woman. She started to get up.

"Figured they'd start asking questions if I came back alone," Michonne said. "And somebody had to keep them out of your nest," she said, pointing her katana in the direction of a few Walkers that were piled up.

Daryl felt a little embarrassed, but Michonne didn't say anything else. She just started toward the prison a few steps in front of them. He squeezed Carol closer to him and they continued along the path the two women had created earlier.

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**AN: I don't know if any of you are multishippers, but if you are, you may want to check out my other stories. I have one that's Dixonne (Michonne/Daryl) called "What Future is There?" that's turned into quite the long saga. Then I also have a Michandrea fic called "Stay Close" that looks at the time that Michonne and Andrea were off together. It's a little slower coming. **


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: So I thought I'd mention this here as I've been planning ahead in the story all day, trying to figure out future plot twists and turns.  
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**I know that, like myself, many of my fellow Carylers out there can be sensitive (and I mean that in the most positive way possible) so I want to warn you all that there may be some sensitive issues/some darker days in our future in the story.  
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**I will do my best, however, to not hurt anyone's feelings too bad, and maybe offer some kinds of warnings (though I'd hate to give away the story) that chapters may contain violence and/or may trigger problems for those who are sensitive to such things. I would hate to upset anyone too badly, but we are in the world of The Walking Dead, and things do get a little dark from time to time.**

**As always, thank you so very much for reviewing! It means the world to me to know that you're enjoying the story and that you're invested in seeing where our couple goes from here.**

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Maggie elbowed Beth when she saw their three lost soldiers coming toward the prison. Michonne was walking along, apparently daydreaming, and just a few feet behind her Daryl was walking with his arm around Carol.

Maggie turned her head, noticing that Karen, who was busy stirring the contents of a pot they had warming over a fire, wasn't looking at the new arrivals.

"Would you look at that?" Maggie said, more loudly than she normally would have, with the intent of catching Karen's attention and drawing it toward the spectacle before it was too late. No one had seen a single physical sign of affection between the pair, that much was true, but the beaming smile on Carol's face and Daryl's arm wrapped around her was something that spoke volumes, as simple as it was. "It looks like someone had a nice walk in the woods."

Maggie smiled to herself, realizing that Karen had at least glanced in their direction. Michonne passed by them without saying anything, ducking straight into the prison. Daryl dropped his arm from Carol and walked off into the prison, leaving Carol standing there in front of all of them.

"Sorry I wasn't here to start dinner," she said. The smile still hadn't faded, and she was blushing a little.

"No problem, we've got it," Maggie said. "Why don't you take the evening off?" She smiled at Carol. The bright smile she was wearing was contagious. "Everything go alright?" She asked.

Carol sighed. "Everything went wonderfully," she said. "I could use the time off, you're right. I have a little _business_ to take care of elsewhere." She winked at Maggie and Maggie didn't miss that she cast a quick glance in the direction of Karen, who hadn't responded in any way but was wearing a bit of bitter expression.

"Have fun!" Maggie said as Carol started toward the door that her travelling companions had passed through a few minutes before.

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The sting of the alcohol wasn't pleasant in the least, but Carol did find something oddly enjoyable about the delicate manner in which Daryl was gently cleaning the scratches on her back, surprising her because he had begun to blow on them as he went along.

She was lying on the bed, topless, her head resting on the pillow, and he was curled beside her, looming over her and tending to the minor scratches that he seemed to be regarding as serious injuries.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said for about the fifth time since he'd begun.

"Stop apologizing, Daryl, it's not a big deal," Carol said. "Just make sure you clean them good. I don't want them getting infected."

She hadn't told Hershel exactly why she was taking the cotton and rubbing alcohol from the office that they had put together for him. He hadn't questioned her much, though he had raised his eyebrows at her. She didn't want the scratches to get infected and then she'd be stuck having to explain to him that she'd lost a fight with a pine tree.

"Bullshit," Daryl said. "I know this shit stings like hell an' you all chewed up. I said I wasn't gon' hurt'cha an' now I done gone and done this."

"If I recall," Carol said, "I don't think you were the only one involved. You didn't hurt me, Daryl, a tree did."

She couldn't help but smile to herself. She had thought when she asked him to help her that he would just pour the alcohol on her and mop at it with the same general roughness that she'd seen him use to clean up some of his own wounds. She hadn't expected him to be so _tender_. It was more endearing than she'd imagined something like this could be.

"I think I got the last one," Daryl said, placing a kiss on her shoulder.

Carol smiled and hugged one of the pillows, not turning over yet.

"Thank you, Daryl," she said.

"What'cha gon' tell Hershel 'bout all these bloody cotton balls?" He asked, putting them in the trash can that Carol had brought and sat by the bed.

"I'm going to throw them away," she said. "I usually burn the trash, so I'm hoping that I don't have to tell him anything."

"I just don't want him thinkin' I did this to ya on purpose," Daryl said.

"Don't worry about it, Daryl, if anyone sees it I won't let them think you did it on purpose," Carol assured him.

"Ya gon' just stay here 'til supper time?" Daryl asked after a minute.

"I was thinking about it," Carol answered. "I thought a nap didn't sound too bad. I didn't sleep well."

She closed her eyes, feeling herself already starting to drift off a little.

The mattress sagged a little as Daryl pushed down on it and then crawled over her, getting off the bed.

"Are you leaving me?" Carol asked sleepily. She'd hoped that he would stay with her, maybe even take a nap with her, but she realized now that might be asking too much, too soon from him.

"I got some things ta do, Carol, but I think ya should take a nap. Maybe then ya will be in the mood ta stay up late tonight," Daryl said.

Carol sighed, but didn't say anything. She listened as Daryl left the cell, and shortly after that she let herself drift off to sleep.

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Daryl waited in line to get his supper. Carol was still asleep in the cell and he wasn't going to wake her up until he had to. He knew she hadn't slept well the night before, and he wanted her to get whatever rest she could.

Daryl wasn't paying much attention to what was going on around him. He simply shuffled in line behind Tyreese, occasionally glancing around at the others who were already sitting down with their plates. Some of them were chatting like Glenn and Rick, but others were simply focused entirely on their food, like Michonne.

Daryl stopped behind Tyreese, suddenly realizing that it was Karen that was handing out plates. When Tyreese stepped forward heading for the tables, Daryl found himself face to face with the woman that could have cost him Carol and who had at least put her through some rough feelings.

She handed him a plate, smiling at him.

"Eating alone?" She asked.

Daryl stood there a minute, regarding her, chewing at his lip.

"I need two plates," he said.

"If you want more, I can bring you a little something extra. We don't usually give out more until everyone's had at least one serving," Karen responded.

"I don't need'ya doin' nothin' for me," Daryl said. "Ain't for me. I need tha other plate for my _woman_. She's waitin' on me in our cell."

A slightly annoyed look washed over Karen's face. Still she did make another plate and hand it to him.

Daryl grunted his thanks for the food and started toward the cell.

"Ya gotta wake up, woman, ya need ta eat," Daryl said as he came into the cell. Carol stirred slowly. "I brought ya some supper so sit on up an' eat it," Daryl said.

Carol yawned and slowly sat up, only realizing after a minute that she didn't have a shirt on. She absentmindedly made a move to cover herself.

"Don't cover 'em up, woman, ain't no one around no way, an' I kinda like the idea of eatin' my supper lookin' at 'em. Might make Beth's cookin' taste better," Daryl said, sitting on the bed and passing a plate of food to Carol, the fork teetering on it and threatening to fall at any minute.

Carol smiled at him.

"You brought me dinner? You could have just woken me up," she said.

Daryl gave her a half smile.

"Coulda, but then you wouldn'ta decided to eat ya supper without no shirt on," Daryl said.

"I should put one on," Carol said, "you never know when someone could decide to pass by."

She put her plate down and got up to burrow through her drawer and come out with tank top. She pulled it on and Daryl frowned.

"You know, we could hang one of the extra blankets across the front of the cell," Carol said. "Maybe split it at the door and make a curtain. It could give us some privacy."

"There's another blanket in my old cell," Daryl said. "I could go an' get it."

Carol smiled.

"Eat your dinner first, Daryl. There's plenty of time for you to see my breasts, they aren't going to disappear," she said, stifling a giggle.

"Fine," Daryl said, "after we eat then."

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After they finished eating, Daryl went in search of the blanket and some manner of securing the curtain. Carol got up and picked up their plates, meaning to return them to whoever was washing dishes in her absence. She stopped before she exited the cell and turned back, remembering that she was only wearing a tank top and Daryl didn't want anyone seeing the scratches on her back. She smiled when she noticed one of the long sleeved shirts that she'd dug out of his bag when she was unpacking it. With the cooler weather approaching she had laid it to the side so he could find it. She picked it up and pulled it on. She could smell him all over it, it wasn't one that he hadn't worn before, and she didn't care that it was much too large.

She picked the plates up then and started back out the cell. She could already hear a good amount of mumbling echoing from other cells that told her that many of the people were already settling down for the evening, entertaining themselves however they saw fit.

As she rounded the corner, expecting to run into just Beth and Maggie doing the dishes, she stopped short when she saw Karen washing dishes.

"I brought a couple more," Carol said, putting the dishes on the ground beside the wash tub.

Karen glanced up at her for a moment.

"Not feeling so discreet anymore?" Karen asked.

Carol was taken aback by the comment, and more so than the comment by the venom in the woman's voice.

"Excuse me?" Carol asked.

"You go running off and he goes after you and you think that means something? Now you're marching around here wearing his clothes like that's going to show everyone how special you are?" Karen said.

Carol glanced around. It was just the two of them from what she could tell. No one else was around, having left the dishes to Karen.

"For your information," Carol said, suddenly feeling more confident than she had in quite some time, "I wasn't trying to show everybody anything, I was simply returning dinner plates. If you got your feelings hurt because I borrowed Daryl's shirt, then I'm sorry for that, but I'll wear what I please."

"And sending Daryl to get your dinner?" Karen asked. She cocked an eyebrow at Carol. "Don't play coy, you're not good at it." Karen picked up the plates and put them in the tub.

Carol felt herself growing annoyed. She considered simply turning and leaving without another word, but she decided that, even though it may be childish, she didn't feel like doing that.

"I didn't send Daryl to get dinner," Carol said. "He went to get it all on his own. I was too busy resting after he wore me out during our outing."

Carol turned quickly, no waiting to see the woman's response, and started back to the cell. When she got there, she found Daryl hanging the blanket that would be their curtain. He had one corner attached and was standing in a chair finishing up the other.

"There's a pair a' scissors on the floor, Carol. Think ya could cut us a slit for the door?" He asked.

Carol found the scissors that he was talking about and made a slit through the blanket just up the middle of the doorway. It didn't cover the area entirely, but the only way you could see past their newly hung curtain was if you crawled along the prison floor looking up, and Carol couldn't imagine that anyone would be that enthusiastic about seeing what was going on behind the barrier.

When Daryl crawled down off the chair, he passed his arm through the slit and held the "door" open for Carol to duck in under his arm.

"Ain't too bad," he said.

"You did great, Daryl." Carol said, smiling at him.

"I see you wearin' my shirt," Daryl said, biting at his cuticle and standing there a little awkwardly.

"Just to take the dishes back," Carol said. "I didn't want anyone seeing the scratches and getting the wrong idea. That's OK with you, isn't it?"

Daryl smiled.

"I don't mind ya wearin' my clothes, woman," Daryl said. "I like ya a whole lot more without any of 'em though. How 'bout we test out this here new wall we got?"

Carol smiled and took his shirt off, dropping it over the chair that he'd been using. She pulled her tank top over her head, wincing a little at the pull of the scratched skin. Daryl shed his own shirt then, moving in to kiss her, his hands dropping around her waist. She could already feel his arousal pressing against his pants, and she smiled against his lips.

"Do you ever get tired, Daryl?" Carol asked. She started unbuttoning his pants.

"Not a' you I don't," he said.

Carol smiled again as he took over pulling off his own boots and pants. She quickly rid herself of her own, thinking how nice it was to have no worries that anyone would pass by your cell and glance in at what you were doing. She thought to herself, as she watched Daryl fumble in one of the drawers in search of his bag of condoms, that they were becoming trend setters in the prison now. She wondered how many of the others would hang blanket curtains in the following days.

"Ain't'cha comin', woman?" Daryl asked. Carol realized he was already sitting on the bed, waiting for her.

"Well not yet," she said, "but I've got high hopes."

She walked toward him, crawling along the mattress on her knees. He reached his hands out for her, grasping her around the hips. She leaned over him, kissing him, and pushing him down on the bed.

"Ya wanna try somethin' new?" Daryl asked.

Carol trailed down and teased his nipple with her tongue, smiling when she felt him shiver. His hands tightened on her waist.

"I think this should be just fine," Carol said. Daryl started to sit up as though he were going to try to shift her around. "Don't," Carol protested. "Stay just like you are. I'm on top this time, remember, I have boo boos, I don't need sheet burn on top of that." Daryl was stiff for a minute, but finally he laid back down. Carol peppered his chest with kisses and licked a trail down his stomach.

"Damn!" Daryl growled.

Carol smiled and took him into her mouth, this time being very careful not to gag herself as she had before.

"What the fuck you tryin' ta do ta me?!" Daryl protested. Carol didn't stop though, and the fact that he roughly buried the fingers of his hand in her hair and tugged at it told her that he didn't really want her to stop.

After a moment, though, Carol did stop. Just from feeling him respond to her she was already about to explode. She crawled back up his body and he leaned up to kiss her. She leaned over him, offering him her breast. He eagerly took her nipple into his mouth and she felt him move his hand down to her core to tease her.

"Where'd you put the condom?" She panted.

Daryl took his mouth away from her nipple.

"Table," he forced out, returning his mouth a moment later and sucking hard, biting down on the tender area a bit.

"Dear God!" Carol said. She tried to reach with one arm toward the table, attempting to keep her balance with the other, but she accidentally crashed forward, falling against Daryl. "Sorry! I'm sorry!" She said quickly pulling herself back up.

"It's OK," he answered. She handed him the condom and waited patiently while he put it on. She hardly let him move his hands out of the way before she got into position and eased herself onto him, grinding into him. He responded by wrapping his hands around her waist and helping to steer her movements to match his own.

For the first time Carol found her release at just the moment he found his and they came, shaking, together. When Carol finally moved, she slid just to the side of Daryl, one leg and one arm draped over him.

"I do love you, Daryl," Carol said after a few minutes.

Daryl grunted, but was silent for a minute.

"I love ya too, Carol," he said.

"And you really mean it?" Carol asked kissing his chest.

"Just as much as I ever meant anythin' before," Daryl said.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: This one's a shorter one, but I was struggling with getting it out so I thought shorter was better than nothing. Hopefully I'll have more for you tomorrow or the next day.**

As always, please review if you like the story. I really do feed off of your reviews. You're all amazing!

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Carol felt a little ashamed about how happy she was. She found herself trying to hide it, even, not wanting to rub it in the faces of anyone in the prison who wasn't floating on the same cloud that she was. She'd enjoyed at least a month of Daryl's company, and every day seemed more perfect than the last.

Daryl was no storybook prince, not by a long shot, but he was everything she wanted. Carol could even overlook the fact that he was still obviously uncomfortable with any kind of public show of affection. He saved her a seat beside him when they ate meals, and occasionally he would let his hands brush her shoulder or touch her hand when they were near others, but for the most part he was reserved about their relationship, only seeming comfortable demonstrating it in their cell or in the watchtower the few times he'd managed to swing it so they had watch together.

They'd made love twice in the shaky, thrown together tower. Carol had been terrified at first that it wouldn't stand up to it, but Daryl had quickly pointed out that Maggie and Glenn had kept watch together several times, and it had never come tumbling down beneath them.

Carol had even begun to ignore Karen's occasional biting remarks. The only time that she'd really felt any burning dislike of the woman was one evening when she'd seen Karen trying to cozy up to Daryl at dinner. She'd felt a sense of pride, though, when Daryl had ignored her advances, probably unaware that they were advances. Even though he hadn't told the woman to leave him alone, just watching him ignoring her told Carol that he was in a place where he wasn't even concerned with other women.

In fact, the only other woman that Daryl frequently interacted with was Michonne, and Carol didn't feel threatened by her at all. The two of them seemed to have some kind of quiet friendship, and Carol understood that anytime he went out on a run, Michonne was his preferred run partner. She assumed it was simply a matter of each of them trusting the other. Michonne had been fine on her own before all this happened, and she was clearly a force to be reckoned with, and Daryl didn't have to worry about her. Oddly enough, though the woman spoke few words, Carol felt comfortable with her, and she thought that maybe Daryl got the same feeling, though he'd never mentioned it.

These days all the days were about the same for Carol. She worked through her myriad of chores with one helper or another showing up. Food was cooked and served and dishes were done. Laundry was washed, dried, and returned to its owner. Judith was fed, coddled, changed, and passed from person to person. At night, every night, Carol was exhausted, but somehow she mustered up enough energy to entertain Daryl, who was still like a little boy each and every time that she pushed her way through the blanket that served as a curtain to their own private getaway. No matter how exhausted Carol was, or how badly she wanted to sleep, she'd never refuse him.

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"Ain't'cha 'bout ready to get up, woman?" Daryl asked. Carol felt herself being shaken awake and she opened her eyes, realizing that Daryl was sitting on the side of their bed.

Carol yawned and stretched. She was tired, and she didn't want to get up, not if she was given the option.

"There you is, I thought I was gonna have ta tell 'em that you'd gone into some kinda coma," Daryl said. He was smiling a little now.

Carol smiled back at him. God she loved this man. She refrained, though, from telling him too often, still nervous that overenthusiasm might push him away. She yawned again and hugged one of the less than desirable prison pillows up under her face.

"I haven't been asleep that long, have I?" She asked sleepily.

"Done missed breakfast," Daryl said. "I let'cha sleep 'cause you sure seemed like ya needed it, but ya can't go makin' no habit of it. Beth ain't fit ta cook a bunch."

Carol smiled. Her stomach churned and she regretted for a moment that she'd missed breakfast. She decided she'd see if she couldn't scrounge up something to fight away the hunger while she worked. Even a granola bar tucked away somewhere would be better than nothing.

"I'm getting up, Daryl," she said. "Wake me up tomorrow and Beth won't have to make your breakfast."

"I'm fixin' ta go out huntin'," Daryl said, "but I'll be back in time fer ya ta fix us up somethin' good fer supper."

"My big, strong provider," Carol said, smiling up at him. Daryl blushed a little and chewed his bottom lip. "You go get us some meat and I'll make sure you eat well tonight, Daryl."

"What else ya gon' make sure I do tonight?" He asked.

Carol smiled again. Daryl had such a mischievous look on his face that it was absolutely adorable to her.

"I don't know, Daryl," she said. "Why don't you think about that while you're out hunting and let me know when you get back?"

Daryl grinned his crooked smile at her.

"Can't think about it too much, not if I'm aimin' ta get somethin' worth eatin'," he said.

Daryl stood up then and Carol pulled herself up, sitting on the side of the bed.

"Can I get a kiss?" She asked.

Daryl leaned in and kissed her. For as much as she teased Daryl about his stamina, she hated to admit to herself that just that one kiss shot electrical feelings through her body. When he pulled away she almost hated that he had to hunt and that she had to face the rest of the prison and step into her normal role. She would have much rather asked him to come back to bed and spent the rest of the day there alternating between naps and lazy love making.

Her dream, however, was not likely to come true. Daryl bid her goodbye and disappeared out of the cell. She sighed and heaved herself out of the bed, gearing up to go and get started.

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"If Daryl brings back enough meat, I think that's enough to make a pretty good stew," Carol said. She turned, dropping the can into the box that Maggie held up for her.

"You should probably get one more can," Maggie said. "Just in case it isn't the best hunt he's ever had, game hasn't exactly been plentiful lately."

Carol agreed and turned back to the shelves, grabbing another can. When she turned to toss it in with the others they were planning to open and prepare, though, she felt her world spinning just a little out of her control, her vision suddenly narrowing.

Somewhere in the distance Carol heard a crash and Maggie caught her hard around the waist.

"Get me a chair, Beth!" Maggie commanded. Carol felt herself being lowered and realized she was sitting in a chair. "Are you OK? Carol? Talk to me."

Carol lifted her head a little and felt it swimming. She dropped it again, finding her own hands and resting it there.

"You almost passed out," Maggie said. Carol opened her eyes and realized that Maggie was kneeling in front of her, looking concerned.

"I skipped breakfast," Carol said. "I was going to eat something, but I forgot."

"Beth, get me some water, and get some of those granola bars out of that box over there," Maggie commanded.

Beth responded immediately and Carol felt Maggie's hands running up and down her arms.

"You gotta eat, Carol. None of us can go without eating," Maggie said.

Carol nodded, slowly regaining herself. She thanked Beth when the wide eyed girl offered her a granola bar and a bottle of water.

Carol unwrapped the bar, eating it quickly and drank down half the bottle of water without responding. She sat a moment, both girls focused on her.

"I'm fine," she said, already feeling a little better. "Just let's not tell Daryl about this, OK? I should have eaten something when I got up."

"Fine," Maggie responded, "but you're sitting here for a little while. Beth and I have things covered until you feel better."

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Carol had slipped off alone, leaving her two companions to start working on dinner. There was more than enough going on to keep them entertained. She frantically searched the back area of the room where they kept the things they'd brought back from Woodbury. Most of it she had sorted, but there was a lot that she'd just tucked away because she hadn't had a use for it…at least not at the time.

Now she was frantically digging through the boxes of random odds and ends, cursing at herself under her breath.

Finally she found the box that she had in mind. She scraped the contents of it into a smaller box and gathered it up. She passed back through the area that held things she'd once deemed the only useful Woodbury items, grabbed up some water bottles, and headed outside the prison in search of some privacy, careful to avoid any of the others.

If she was going to do this, the last thing she wanted was anyone prying into the matter.

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Carol had returned to the main area deflated. She looked around and found that the trash drums, large metal cans where she burned the garbage, were abandoned. She was relieved as she burrowed through the trash, burying the box as deeply as she possibly could. She declared to herself that she'd burn trash the next day at the very latest.

She finished the bottle of water in her hand and looked around. From her location there was nothing more than the sight of a few damaged buildings and Walkers crowding around fences they hadn't managed to push down.

Carol shuddered a little and started inside.

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"How could you do this?" Hershel asked. "I expected maybe to have to have this talk with Maggie, or maybe even Beth, but I never thought I'd be having it with you."

Carol sat on the table in the make shift office they'd built for Hershel.

"It was an accident," Carol said. "We were careful, most of the time."

"Most of the time doesn't work, Carol," Hershel said.

The old man's voice was loaded with concern and Carol couldn't blame him. She wasn't in the most promising position right now and she certainly wasn't without her own doubts about the matter.

"I know," she said, softly. She ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm the one that took eighteen tests," she said. "I'm not any happier with myself than you are."

"You took eighteen tests?" Hershel asked. She thought she heard a hint of amusement in his voice, but she wasn't amused at all by the situation.

"Majority rules, right?" She said. "I wanted to be sure. It hasn't been too long," she said.

"But it's been long enough," Hershel said. He hobbled over to a chair he had slid to the side and sat down. "I'm going to be honest with you, Carol, it's not a good situation."

"I know that," Carol said. "The Governor is out there, we're just waiting to see what he will do…" she let her voice trail off.

"Not only that, Carol, but given your age, and the fact that we're all undernourished, it's just not a good idea. You're undernourished, you're anemic already. You need iron, vitamins, things we don't have," Hershel said. "I hate to say it, but I think that if you're patient, nature will run its course, and the sooner the better."

Carol felt a lump in her throat. She swallowed it down. The entire situation was more than she could wrap her mind around right now. She wanted to be back in her bed with the cover pulled over her head.

"I guess that's it, then," she said after she'd gotten control of herself.

"You're going to tell Daryl, aren't you?" Hershel said.

"No," Carol said, "I'm not going to tell Daryl, and I'm not going to tell anyone. I hope that you won't either. Doctor patient confidentiality, isn't that what it's called?" Carol asked. "I know I don't have four legs, but I trust you're not going to say anything."

"I think you ought to tell Daryl," Hershel said.

"What for?" Carol asked, looking up at Hershel. The truth was that she would be terrified to tell Daryl. She had no idea how she'd go about it. She didn't want the whole prison knowing and looking at her differently. "You've just said that nature will run its course, Hershel, I don't want Daryl to worry. He doesn't need to worry about something he can't fix."

Hershel regarded her for a moment, his mouth tightened.

"Carol Ann, that's a lot for you to shoulder alone," he said. "Daryl has a right to know. I won't tell anyone, but I don't think you should keep it a secret. Even if the baby doesn't have a chance, you need to take care of yourself. Your body is going to take away what it needs for the baby for as long as it can, and it's going to take it away from you. I just don't want to see you get sick from this."

Carol almost felt a laugh rising up in her. She didn't want to talk about it anymore. She had too much to think about, too much to worry about right now. She didn't want to continue this discussion any farther.

"I'll tell him when he needs to know," she said finally. "Please, Hershel, don't tell anyone."

Hershel lowered his head a moment and nodded.

"Fine, I won't tell anyone, but at least keep me informed," he said.

Carol forced a smile, though she really didn't feel like she had one left in her at the moment.

"I'll do that," she said.

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**AN: So there you go. Some of you called it in the air.**

**I have a couple of ways that I could go from here, and I have different storylines planned out for each. Now I just have to decide which way to go. **


	15. Chapter 15

Daryl was sitting in the watchtower, distracted by his thoughts. Rick was on watch with him, and they'd remained silent during most of their time there.

Daryl raised the binoculars he was holding and scanned the horizon around the prison. As usual, there was nothing to see beyond the Walkers ambling about. He scanned down to the side of the prison yard where Carol was outside with some of the other women hanging out laundry to dry. He watched her a few minutes, shaking out clothes and pinning them to the wire that they'd strung up for them to use.

She was wearing a tank top and on top of that she was wearing the green sweater that she'd been fond of since the weather had started to pick up the slight chill of fall. She'd cut the neck out of it, saying that if didn't choke her it would be perfect. As a result it hung off one shoulder or the other depending on how she shifted.

Daryl sat there, watching her, looking at the white skin of the shoulder that was exposed and how it met the curve of her neck.

"How's the Walker population inside the fences?" Rick asked after a minute, snatching Daryl out of his thoughts. Daryl blushed a little and lowered the binoculars. Rick was smiling at him, highly amused.

Daryl didn't respond, he simply bit at his thumb nail. Rick was still glancing at him, that smile plastered on his face. Daryl wanted to talk to him, but he didn't think that he wanted to do it while he was wearing that facial expression.

"Can I ask ya somethin'?" Daryl said after a minute.

"Sure, Daryl, what is it?" Rick asked.

"Well, ya know a lot about women, don't'cha?" Daryl asked.

Rick chuckled a little.

"I have a lot of _theories_ about women, but I don't know how much I actually _know_ about them," Rick said, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, you was with Lori for a long time," Daryl said. He noticed that Rick's face dropped a little, the smile gone. Rick nodded his head. "Well, when you was with her, an' when we weren't runnin' an' stuff, did ya ever have times when you wanted…well, when she didn't want ta…"

Rick's eyebrows raised and he smiled again. He interrupted Daryl before he couold finish working out his thought entirely.

"Are you asking if Lori ever turned me down, Daryl?" Rick asked. "Carol's having headaches, huh?"

Daryl looked confused.

"She ain't said nothin' 'bout havin' no headache," Daryl said.

Rick chuckled again.

"Lori always used to say she had a headache, or she didn't feel well, whenever she didn't want to make love," Rick said. "What did Carol say?"

"She ain't said nothin'," Daryl said.

"Ok," Rick said, "maybe I don't understand. What exactly _happened_?"

Daryl shifted uncomfortably.

"Yesterday mornin' she didn't get up for breakfast an' then last night she was all tense an' stuff so I was rubbin' her back so she'd relax an' then she went ta sleep, an' then this mornin' she didn't get up when I got up," Daryl said.

Rick sat there a minute with a blank expression on his face. Slowly he started to smile again.

"Wait a minute, so you two have been sleeping together _every day_, _twice_ a day?" Rick asked.

Daryl shrugged. "Most a' the time, sometimes we get some time durin' the day."

Rick chuckled a little and shook his head. He squeezed at his temples.

"Did you think, Daryl, that the woman might just be _tired_?" Rick asked.

"She weren't tired before," Daryl responded. "Forget it."

"No," Rick said, "I'm sorry. I'll be serious about it." He sat silently a minute and Daryl watched him. Daryl wasn't sure now what Rick was thinking. He wasn't sure that he was happy that he had said anything. "OK, Daryl, I think I might be able to help you with your _problem_, but you're going to have to do something."

"What I gotta do?" Daryl asked.

"Well, Daryl, women like to feel desired, they like to feel special. You've got to do something to make Carol feel like you desire her," Rick said. He paused a minute. He couldn't believe that he was trapped in a rickety watch tower giving romantic advice to Daryl Dixon.

"What'cha mean? She knows I like her," Daryl said.

"Maybe that's not enough, Daryl. Maybe she wants everyone _else_ to know you like her," Rick said. "You don't do anything in front of any of us to show that you like Carol. I've never seen you so much as touch her."

"I ain't like that," Daryl said.

"Maybe you need to _learn_ to be like that," Rick responded. "If you aren't willing to show that you're with her in front of anyone, then she might think you're ashamed of her, or ashamed of all of us knowing that you're with her."

"I ain't 'shamed a' Carol," Daryl said, "but I ain't pussywhipped neither." He shifted again.

Rick smiled.

"You don't have to be _pussywhipped_, Daryl, to want to make her feel special. Start small, and I bet she'll respond," Rick said.

"What'cha got in mind?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know," Rick said. "Try giving her a kiss at dinner tonight, or just put your arm around her. Maybe even pull out her chair. It doesn't have to be something big, Daryl, but I bet that Carol would appreciate it." He sat silent for a minute. "You know, instead of admiring her through binoculars while she does the laundry you could take a walk over there and do it in person."

"All the girls are down there," Daryl said.

"So?" Rick asked. "What's the worst that happens, Daryl? Someone teases you for a few minutes? Would it be worth it to have someone tease you for a few minutes to have Carol want to stay up when you go back to your cell tonight?"

Daryl thought about it, but the idea of everyone watching him made him feel like his heart would explode.

"It would be easier to start with something like that and work up to a kiss at dinner," Rick continued, "at least the whole group wouldn't be there."

Daryl did think it would be easier to do something in front of a few of them than it would be to do something in front of everyone. And he did really like the way she looked when she wore that green sweater, even if it didn't fit like it was supposed to.

"You got watch a minute?" Daryl asked.

Rick smiled at him.

"Yeah, I got it." Rick said. "Go get'em tiger," he said with a smile.

Daryl shot him a look of discomfort.

"Just remember, Daryl, the teasing is harmless, and she'll make it worthwhile if you give her a chance," Rick said.

Daryl stood up, wiping his hands on his pants leg. He picked up his crossbow.

"Thanks," he said quietly as he slipped out the door.

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The whole way across the yard Daryl was working on gathering up his courage. He was surprised at how nervous he felt. He was struggling not to just decide to walk back to the watch tower. If this was something that Carol _needed_ him to do then he was just going to have to do it.

Daryl worked on giving himself a pep talk. It wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maggie, Beth, and Karen were the only women out there with Carol. It was probably a good thing for Karen to see him approach Carol in the yard, then maybe she wouldn't be opening her mouth and hurting his woman's feelings anymore. Beth was pretty shy around him, so she wasn't likely to give him any grief about it. Maggie, on the other hand, was quite the teaser, and she'd tell Glenn about it, but Daryl knew there was plenty that he could tease them both about.

As Daryl approached, he rested his crossbow on the ground and kept his eyes on Carol, attempting not to notice the other three women. She had her back to him, her arms raised, hanging someone's shirt. He walked up and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to him.

Carol jumped at the contact. She was caught completely off-guard. At first she didn't have any idea _who_ would walk up behind her and wrap their arms around her. She froze, and looked down, immediately recognizing Daryl's hands. Then she was struck again. Daryl had _never_ touched her like this, at least not with anyone watching.

"I been watchin' ya, woman," Daryl whispered in her ear. Carol shivered as his breath brushed over her ear. She felt her pulse quicken and for a moment she felt ashamed of herself. Just that declaration was extremely arousing, and she knew that _they_ were watching, maybe even able to hear what he'd just said.

Carol turned her head a little, tilting it back.

"You've been watching me?" She whispered back.

"Yep, I like ya in that sweater," Daryl said.

Carol was struck again. The sweater that he was referring to was one that she'd found in one of the clothes boxes that Maggie and Glenn had brought from a run. She typically was the last to get to the new clothes that were brought in, and therefore she'd pretty much learned to make due with whatever no one else wanted. The sweater was oversized, and she'd hated the neck of it, messily cutting it off when she'd claimed the thing as her own. It was warm enough to keep her arms from being cold with the chill in the air, but it was light enough that she wasn't hot. She hadn't thought, however, that the garment was an attractive garment in any way.

"You like this sweater?" Carol asked, amused.

"Yep," Daryl said.

"Daryl, why on Earth would you like this sweater?" She asked. She'd forgotten all about the others watching them now, all she could do was smile at the thought that he precious, awkward Daryl was proclaiming that he found her attractive in one of the ugliest sweaters that she'd ever seen in her life.

"I like when it falls off ya shoulder," Daryl said. He pulled away from her for a minute and Carol felt him gently kiss her on the shoulder. She shivered again. She wanted to kiss him, and not as chastely as he'd just kissed her shoulder. She really wanted strip his clothes off then and there and make love to him, but she didn't move. She wasn't pushing public affection any further than he was comfortable with. She was also acutely aware that they were _not_ alone.

Carol swallowed hard and tried to get ahold of her emotions, though she hated to relinquish the warmth of his arms wrapped around her at the moment.

"I've got to do the laundry," she whispered, "but maybe you could get a better look at my _shoulders_ later."

Daryl smiled to himself. Suddenly he wasn't feeling as embarrassed as he had before. Until this moment he hadn't looked at anyone but Carol, and now he was enjoying just holding her to him, and he was enjoying even more the promise of what would come later. Maybe there was some truth to what Rick had said, maybe he could do little things like this from time to time, if it was important to her.

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Carol stood in front of Daryl in the cell while he sat on the bed. He wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled her between his knees, his hands inside her tank top, snaking up to her breasts. She reached down and pulled the sweater over her head and then peeled off the tank top. His mouth found her nipple and she groaned, involuntarily throwing her head back at the pleasure that coursed through her. Suddenly she realized how hungry she was for his touch, hungrier than she'd been in a while. She unbuttoned her pants, wrapping her hand around his wrist and trying to lead his hand to her.

Daryl responded by pulling his hand away. He grabbed the band of her pants and pulled them and her underwear down in one movement. He slid off the bed, gently pushing her away from him a little. Carol stumbled backward, but didn't fall, thanks to one of his hands steadying her by her hip. He buried his face into her core, sucking at her. With the other hand he massaged her breast. She spread her legs for him, moaning and mewing.

"Missed ya too, woman," Daryl said, stopping. He got up and shucked his own pants, his shirt having come off before. Carol stepped out of her pants and kicked them to the side. She stood in front of Daryl and he kissed her shoulder again, as gently as he had before. She reached down and grasped him. He hissed. "Not yet," he said. He sat down on the bed and Carol watched him.

Carol felt her chest tighten when he reached over and burrowed in the drawer to come out with a condom. She watched him tear it open and put it on.

For a moment Carol considered telling him that he didn't need to worry about it. She considered admitting to him that she was pregnant. She wondered how he would react, what would happen. Would he be angry or would he be pleased with the possibility?

"Come 'ere," Daryl said, pulling Carol to him. She sat in his lap, straddling him, feeling herself led by him, but already she was distracted. She tried to get back to the place she was at before. He lined himself up with her, his fingers brushing her, and pushed into her, settling her on his lap. It wasn't until he bucked into her the first time that Carol snapped out of her daydream and began to respond. "Where ya at, woman?" Daryl panted.

"I'm right here," Carol said. She tried then to focus. Finally she got lost in the pleasure of the moment, bucking in rhythm with him until she found her release. She let herself rest her head against his shoulder then, going limp, while he finished. When he finally hit his peak, he sat there a moment hugging her to him.

"Was that alright?" Daryl asked.

"It was great," Carol said. Again the tight feeling in her chest was returning and she was fighting hard not to cry. She hoped he couldn't hear the sadness in her voice.

"Ya want somethin' else?" Daryl asked. Carol realized that he _had_ detected something in her voice. He knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't have any way of knowing what it was. Carol felt a little guilty, worried that he might think that it had something to do with him, worried that he might think that he'd done something wrong. She knew she had summon up the courage to tell him, but she knew she didn't have it in herself at this moment.

"No, Daryl, that was perfect. Thank you," Carol said. She moved her face in front of him and kissed him hard on the lips, her tongue probing his mouth, fighting with his. When she broke away she got off of him. "Snuggle me while we sleep?" She asked.

Daryl got ready and crawled into bed, holding the blanket up for her. She slid in next to him, pulling his arm around her. She would figure out how to tell him. She knew she had to. She was just nervous about how he'd react, but he did deserve to know, even if it was just something temporary.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: As usual I would love to thank you all for reading and reviewing. There is possibly disturbing content in this chapter, so be advised.**

**I'm continuing on with our story here, having mapped out a few more of the plot lines to come.**

**I'd also like to say that I might not be posting quite as frequently during this week. I have a lot going on in real life, so I'm not sure that I'll be able to update as regularly. I'm not going anywhere, I just have a lot going on for the week.**

**That being said, I hope you enjoy!**

**P.S. Sorry that it's short. Some of the following chapters may be a little short too, mostly owing to time restraints. I figured that something was better than nothing to keep us progressing. I'll try to get you something else out soon to continue along! **

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Carol snuck off to the library of the prison. It was the only place that was quiet, the only place that she could be alone, and it was only when she was alone that she could really think.

Maggie and Beth were all excited about Daryl's display of affection, though Karen dismissed it as being nothing impressive. Carol wanted to bask in the excitement that such a display would normally have brought, coming from Daryl Dixon, but right now she was too overcome with other thoughts to do so.

She hid herself in the back of the library so that she wouldn't be noticeable to anyone who happened to just peek in there looking for her. Whether or not they noticed she was gone and worried about her was of little concern for the moment. The library was safe, and she needed to be alone. She'd deal with whatever frantic mood that caused among the others.

Carol sat on the floor and leaned back, resting her head against the dusty old books on the shelf behind her.

She had no idea how to tell Daryl that she was pregnant. Every time she thought about it her mind offered her images, gave her different scenarios, and usually they weren't helpful.

The most pleasant that her mind had provided her was really more of a daydream. It was as unrealistic and impossible as any scenario she'd ever seen in any book that she had read. It didn't even take place in the here and now. It took place in a world that was so distant, so picture perfect, and so impossible that it might as well have been in black and white.

_Ed was dead, that much remained true. Sophia was alive and thriving. Carol was married to Daryl. She had no idea how long they'd been married, but it was long enough that they were happy and things were easy between them. There weren't any doubts. _

_They'd hoped for a baby, dreamed of one, and now she was going to get the chance to tell Daryl that their dream had come true. He'd come home from work, as he did every day. He worked at a job like construction, maybe, something with his hands. Whatever job it was, it wasn't some nine to five, that would never suit him. _

_He'd come home from work and then he'd kiss her at the door, kiss Sophia, and shower. She'd get dinner ready, set the table while he was showering so that it was perfect for him when he got out. She and Sophia would wait for him eagerly. Finally he would come in, clean and smelling of soap, all smiles and appreciative of the meal that awaited him. He'd sit._

_And then the dream varied. Sometimes she would tell him by having left the test by his plate, other times it was a pacifier sitting on his napkin. Whichever it was his reaction was the same. He'd look at it for a moment, look at her with hope in his eyes, and then she'd smile and nod her head. He'd get up from the table, take her hands and pull her up, and he'd kiss her, so excited about their new arrival. _

_And then they'd eat dinner, sharing conversation, laughing, talking about the day. Each of them excited about the baby that would complete their picturesque lifestyle. _

But that wasn't how this life worked, not at all. Sophia was dead, and she and Daryl certainly hadn't been married for years. They hadn't even been romantically involved for more than a few months. Things weren't even easy between them. Carol felt like they were walking some kind of tight rope at all times. They were trying to keep from falling over the edge at any minute and losing everything. Now she was pregnant and she was supposed to tell Daryl Dixon that in the midst of all the chaos around them, she was dumb enough to have gotten pregnant.

The man had barely even touched her in front of anyone else. She couldn't imagine how he'd respond to the thought that if this baby made it, she'd be visibly growing for everyone to see. There wouldn't be any hiding their relationship from anyone.

She worried that he wouldn't respond well at all. Sometimes her mind ran with that. Sometimes it gave her all these scenarios where she'd told Daryl that she was pregnant and he'd been angry with her, hated her even. She imagined him, at times, raving at her, even striking out at her. Usually he blamed her for getting pregnant, for putting him in a position that he didn't want to be in.

It was when those thoughts crossed her mind that she was bitterly reminded of Ed and of how he'd reacted when she had told him that she was pregnant with Sophia. The memory haunted her frequently when she thought about telling Daryl.

_She'd hid it as long as she could. She'd been afraid to tell him. Ed didn't want children and she hadn't meant to get pregnant. It had been an honest accident. She'd been taking antibiotics, and they'd cancelled out her birth control, that was the only thing that she could figure out. _

_She was taking the antibiotics because of him in the first place. As much as she'd tried to ward off infection in the injuries he inflicted on her body, sometimes she wasn't able to keep it from happening. She'd hold off until the fever overtook her, and then she'd sheepishly admit to Ed that she had to see a doctor. He only agreed that she could go if she lied about how she'd gotten the injuries, whatever it was that had been infected at the time, and she would agree to it. She knew, though, that the doctor knew she was lying. Everyone knew the monster that Ed was. No one said anything, though, and Carol hadn't wanted them to say anything. It would be so much worse if they had. _

_When she'd finally realized that she had to tell Ed, it was because she could no longer hide the belly that was beginning to demand that she buy new pants. She'd done everything she could, using all kinds of methods to stretch her pants beyond their limitations, but she wasn't going to be able to continue to do that, and Ed had begun to grow annoyed with her, noticing her weight gain, and he'd started to take her food from her, saying that he wasn't going to allow her to keep being so greedy and eating so much that she obviously didn't need._

_When she'd told him, she was crying before the words were even out of her mouth. He'd called her a whore, a slut, and several other names. He'd raved and stomped. He'd said that he didn't know whose baby it was, that it wasn't his. _

_And then he'd beaten her. He'd threatened to beat the baby out of her, and when he finished, he'd left, probably going out to a bar somewhere. She remembered lying there, on the bedroom floor, and thinking that he'd probably been successful. There couldn't be any way that a tender baby could have survived the beating._

_But somehow, miraculously, her little angel had survived. She'd apparently absorbed most of the impact. Somehow she had managed to protect her, only slowly realizing that even if Ed didn't want her, she did want the baby. She'd gone to the doctor to confirm that she hadn't lost the baby, explained that the bruises had come from a terrible fall down the stairs, and had cried when he'd let her hear the heartbeat, confirming that despite her fall, she was still pregnant._

Carol couldn't imagine that Daryl would beat her, she didn't _think_ that he would hit her. He'd moved toward her once like he might hit her, but he'd never actually made contact with her. He'd pulled back, perhaps realizing his own demons before he'd let them loose on her.

This, however, could be something to push him to that.

What really worried Carol, though, was not that Daryl would hit her. She'd probably _appreciate_ it if that was the worst way that he responded to this. What she was more afraid of was that he would pull away from her, that he would simply decide that it was something that he couldn't handle, or something that he didn't want to handle, and he would just avoid her. He'd left once before, although it had been in an effort to reconnect with his brother, so what was to say that he might not leave again? Or that he might hurt her even worse by choosing to stay at the prison but treat her as though she didn't exist?

She didn't know if she could bear losing Daryl, and worse than losing him, she couldn't bear to see him turn away from her. Maybe even moving on at some point to find company with someone like Karen.

_That _was something that Carol felt like could kill her. She didn't think she could survive seeing Daryl in the arms of Karen, or of any other woman for that matter.

Carol sobbed into her hands, wiping her nose with her arm.

Besides having to tell Daryl, which was hard enough, she had to figure out how _she_ felt about all this.

Carol felt guilty, more than anything. Part of her, and she hated to admit that it was the largest part of her, felt like she didn't want the baby. She didn't want to be pregnant. She didn't want to tell Daryl about the baby. She just wanted to close her eyes, will it away, and then not have to deal with the situation at all.

And _that_ made her feel guilty. She felt like it was wrong that she didn't want a baby that was growing inside of her.

She felt like she was too old for this, it wasn't what she wanted, and it certainly wasn't anything that she'd planned. She had just begun to accept that idea that she might have a relationship with Daryl, and she certainly hadn't thought about having a baby, not at her age, not with her current relationship with Daryl, and not with the chaos of a world full of Walkers and crazy people.

She didn't want that for herself, and she didn't want that for her baby. When they'd found Sophia in the barn she had decided then that she would never be a mother again. She'd accepted the fact, and she'd found what peace she could in imagining that Sophia wasn't suffering. She was at peace. She didn't have to suffer even the inconveniences that they had to suffer. She wasn't hungry, as they often were. She was never too cold or too hot. She wasn't uncomfortable or afraid. There was nothing anymore that could frighten her precious little girl. She was safe and she was peaceful.

"I can't do this," Carol sobbed, whispering to no one. "I don't want to do this."

As bad as she felt for it, that was just how she felt. At the moment all she wanted to do was curl up on the library floor and sleep. She wanted to just lie there and wait for the whole thing to pass, everything to go away. She didn't want to get up and walk back out there and face everyone who had noticed that she was gone. She didn't want to think any more about how she might tell Daryl about the baby. She didn't want to wake up another morning and wonder if she'd lose it that day, or if she might eventually have to face the terrifying thought that the baby _might_ make it. She didn't want to worry about what would happen if it _did_.

She didn't want to suffer the same fate as Lori. She didn't want to die giving birth, but she also knew that she wouldn't want to lose another child. If they both survived, she'd be forever horrified at the thought of losing the new child just as she had lost Sophia.

There was no winning way out of this. No matter what happened it would be horrible. One way or the other she was going to have to face some difficult situation, something she didn't want to do.

Regardless of what happened with the baby, though, she was mostly petrified at the thought of losing Daryl. She'd waited all this time for him to finally notice her, waited for him to care for her. Now he'd even said he loved her, and he'd moved into her cell.

For the first time in her life she was happy in the arms of a man. No matter how hard he could be to understand at times, she _loved_ him. No matter how tricky their relationship was, how tenuous, she was _happy_ with him. For the first time ever she was beginning to understand all those emotions that she'd read about in so many novels. She was starting to feel like she really, truly loved this man, and, at times, although it was a little frightening to imagine, she was beginning to feel for the first time that she was actually _loved_ by a man.

She was terrified to think that she could lose all that in an instant.

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**AN: OK, everyone, I tried to edit this but it's been very hard. The entire time that I was writing and editing there were two people, two dogs, two cats, and two televisions at their loudest possible volume doing everything in their power to make it absolutely impossible to concentrate for more than two minutes at the time. I hope it's not too bad! **


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: I squeezed this one out. I talked with a friend of mine today about where I was thinking about going and talking it out a bit really helped me work through some of the details and get the juices flowing. So I seized the opportunity tonight after everyone else had gone to bed and I wrote this little chapter to move us forward.**

**As always, I appreciate your reviews and I hope you enjoy the chapter! **

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Daryl, Rick, and Glenn were optimistic about the endeavor ahead of them. Daryl had spotted footprints not far from the area where they typically went for water when he'd gone out that morning to hunt. They were easy enough to track, as long as they got a move on quick enough. He'd turned back, abandoning his planned hunt, and gone to find Rick to tell him that they needed to move as quickly as possible to have a hope of surprising the people who had left the prints before nightfall got the best of them, and also left them further at the mercy of the Walkers.

Rick had sprung into action and Glenn had followed suit. Now the three of them were finishing stuffing the three bags they would take with them. Daryl hoped that they wouldn't be gone more than a night, but they were prepared for a few nights if that's what they had to spend out there in order to catch up with the men and hopefully eliminate the threat of the Governor.

Daryl was almost positive the prints belonged to the Governor's men, and they were _fresh._ The assholes were lingering just outside their view then, probably watching them, but if they followed them, caught the Governor off-guard, they had a chance of ending this without bringing the conflict and any more bloodshed to the gates of the prison, and that was worth just about any chance they'd be taking.

"What if it's not the Governor?" Maggie had asked, already tearful and angry that Glenn was leaving her behind. "What if you don't come back?"

"If it's not the Governor then we'll just come back," Rick said.

"We gon' come back, right after we kill that asshole," Daryl said. "We ain't got time ta waste bitchin' 'bout it though, not if we gon' find 'em while the light's on our side."

"So you're all just going? What about us?" Beth asked. The girl was cradling Judith, a very worried look plastered on her face.

"If something happens while we're gone, you fight," Rick said. "Hopefully it's not going to come to that, though."

"It ain't gon' come ta that," Daryl barked. "We gon' kill 'em an' then we ain't gotta spend the whole damn winter wonderin' if the son of a bitch is gonna try ta starve us out or when he's gonna show up shootin' at us."

And that had been that. They'd packed up what they could carry. Rick had told Carl to watch over things, had kissed Judith, and had bid farewell to everyone else at the prison.

Glenn and Maggie had made a big display of their affections for one another, Glenn promising to be back, both declaring their love in the general sappy manner in which they went about it.

Daryl hadn't quite known what to do. They hadn't been prepared for this, but these kinds of opportunities didn't usually arise with a lot of warning. Daryl had hesitated a moment, but decided that the others weren't paying too much attention to him. He'd gone over to Carol, who had been silent through most of the debate, and tipped her head up with his hand, kissing her gently on the lips.

"Stay safe, woman," he said. He tried to ignore the fact that there were tears in her eyes. He couldn't pay attention to that with such a demanding task at hand.

Carol had started, paused, and then leaned up, putting her lips close to his hear.

"I love you," she whispered. Daryl shivered at her breathe. He looked around nervously, swallowed, and nodded his head.

"Me too," he said.

Daryl turned then, with the others. The group followed them to the gates and Michonne let them out, having already expressed her annoyance at being left behind to help guard the prison rather than being allowed to go and repay a debt to a man that she loathed. Daryl had promised her that when they found the Governor he'd be sure to put a bullet in his brain just for her.

They'd left and Daryl had tried not to think about Carol or how sad she'd looked when they left. He needed his wits about him and if he went to thinking about that woman he wasn't going to be able to focus on the tracking that he needed to do.

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As everyone had begun filing back into the prison, worry on the minds of all of them, Carol wasn't quite sure what to think. She knew that they had to all keep going. The day had to continue like any other day would have. Unfortunately she was going to have to be the one that tried to hold it together and create some sense of normalcy for the others, though she definitely didn't feel like she was most qualified for the job.

She'd immediately put Sasha and Tyreese in the watchtower. What they were watching for, exactly, she was unsure of, but there needed to be someone on watch. There was _always_ someone on watch. She'd absentmindedly assigned various chores to Maggie, Beth, and Karen. Hershel, as he typically did, agreed to watch Judith with Carl's assistance, the boy taking random breaks to walk the parameters with Michonne.

Carol busied herself running back and forth between tasks that seemed unimportant at the moment. She gathered laundry, took inventory of food, and worried about what they would eat for dinner, trying desperately to keep her mind as busy and distracted as her hands were.

But her mind wasn't as cooperative as her hands, and she worried about Daryl. She worried about Glenn and Rick as well, but mostly she worried about Daryl. If they _did_ find the Governor, she worried that the men would not be able to ambush him as easily as they had seemed to think they would be able to. What if one of them was injured, or even worse, what if one of them was killed? No one at the prison would have any way of knowing about it until the others returned, _if_ the others returned.

And she still had not told Daryl about the secret that was eating her alive. He'd gone out there, to try and keep them all safe from the Governor, and she hadn't even had the courage to tell him that she may be having his child. Daryl Dixon didn't know that he might be a father.

Carol tried to calm herself by thinking it was for the best that he didn't know, not right now. If he'd known about the baby, he might have been distracted. If the news had upset him, if he didn't want it, didn't want her, then he'd be wrapped up in that anger, and that anger could get him killed. If he _did_ want the baby, if it was something that he was even maybe happy about, then he'd be even more concerned about protecting her, distracted by his need to protect what was his, and that distraction could get him killed. She'd tried to tell herself that it was better this way, at least this way he'd gone out there with a level head, no other concern than finding the Governor and eliminating a threat.

She could tell him as soon as he got back. Perhaps coming back with a victory as great as having rid the world of the menace that was the Governor would even be enough to make him less likely to be upset about the baby. Just knowing that was no longer hanging over their heads could erase a lot of worry, at least for Daryl.

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Daryl had been following the tracks carefully as they made their way through the woods. The tracks were odd in that they seemed, at times, to be going in circles. Daryl knew that every now and again they would actually complete a circle and the tracks would double back over themselves, trotting off in another direction. There had been three men. Two of average size, apparently, and one that had been heavier, perhaps walking with something of a limp. In various places the tracks would be wiped clean, as though one or all of the men had taken the steps to try to erase the fact that they had passed this way. Then, however, with a little patience, it wasn't difficult to pick them back up.

"Are we going in circles, Daryl?" Rick asked, concerned. He and Glenn were quietly following Daryl, keeping control of the Walker population as they passed.

"Sometimes we is," Daryl grunted. "I don't understand 'em, really. Sometimes they go in little circles an' come back to where they was, like they don't know where they was goin', but then they keep on goin' off in another direction. They tried to clean up their tracks too, at least in some places."

"Maybe they thought we might try to follow them," Glenn said. "Maybe they thought that it would throw anyone off that was following them." He knew for certain that it would have thrown him off, but Daryl could follow the prints even when he couldn't see a thing.

"Maybe so," Daryl said, considering again the tracks in front of him. It would make sense that they wouldn't want them following them to wherever the Governor was holed up. The man was a coward. He wouldn't want them knocking on his front door and surprising him before he'd had the chance to get the jump on them at the prison. "At least we're makin' progress, though, so we ain't lost 'em yet."

Daryl glanced toward the sky. It would be getting too dark to continue following the tracks before long. He'd need to find a place not far from their path to sleep. Somewhere where they'd be at least somewhat safe from Walkers until the first light. They could continue then. He had a lot of interest in finding the Governor as soon as possible and putting this threat out of mind.

"We gon' have ta find a place soon, so keep ya eyes peeled for a barn or a house where we might can make a camp for the night. Ain't no hot meals tonight, but if we're lucky we'll make it back in time for supper tomorrow," Daryl said.

They continued along a way until Glenn spotted a somewhat broken down shed not too far from where they were walking. Daryl marked the trail for himself with a stick and they went toward the shed.

It wasn't exactly a place where he _wanted_ to spend the night, but it would have to do. They hadn't seen anything else for quite some time and they were losing the light. He wanted them to be inside before it got dark. They needed to be ready to bed down without the fear of attracting Walkers.

Inside the shed was clean and there were no Walkers in their area. Daryl had spread his poncho on the ground, and the others had made their beds out of blankets or whatever else they had packed in their bags. They silently split jerky and granola bars, drinking water out of the bottles that they'd brought. It was a pitiful supper, but it was the best that could be found at the time.

Daryl rolled over after he'd eaten and curled up to sleep. Rick and Glenn sighed and shifted in the dark of the shed. None of them had much to say that night. It wasn't exactly a grand time for conversation.

As Daryl closed his eyes he was distracted by the image of Carol, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. He was kicking himself a little for not having said he loved her back. He'd said it before, and he hoped she knew it, but he wished he'd said it then. He'd wished he hadn't talked himself out of it.

Carol hadn't been acting quite the same lately, and Daryl had wondered if it might be the constant worry about the return of the Governor that was worrying her, or even the approaching winter. Winter at the prison wasn't going to be _easy_, but it certainly wouldn't be as hard as wintering outside would be. It would also be a whole lot easier if they didn't have to worry about that deranged psychopath showing up at their doorstep with whatever plan he'd developed this time.

Maybe if tomorrow they killed the Governor then Carol wouldn't be so worried anymore. Maybe if he'd had the balls to tell her that he loved her before he'd left the prison, that would have helped too. He couldn't go back, though, in time and tell her, so now he could only hope to kill the Governor and have that news to take back to her. Maybe he'd even feel so good about killing the asshole that he would find the courage to do more than give her a peck on the lips. If he killed the Governor, he might even feel bold enough to kiss her and tell her that he loved her right there, right along with the announcement that their enemy was dead.

Daryl tried to fall asleep, then, with the thought of Carol happy with him, _proud_ of him in his mind. She'd be proud that he'd killed the Governor, and she'd be happy that he'd made as big a show of his feelings for her that he could, right in front of everyone, just like Rick had said she would be.

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Everyone at the prison was on pins and needles. The night had passed and the men hadn't returned. They'd known it was a possibility that they wouldn't make it back before nightfall, but it hadn't made it any easier on those left behind. They had no way of knowing what was out there or what they'd encountered. Anything was a possibility. They could have already found the Governor and his people, killed them, and perhaps were trekking their way back to the prison even as they sat half-heartedly eating their breakfast and discussing with empty words the things they hoped to accomplish during the day. It could be that they hadn't even found them yet and they were still tracking them.

Carol lamented that this was no longer an age of telephones and easy communication lines. If it had been, they might have received some word, some update, to let them know what to expect. Instead they were all worried sick.

What was even worse than the obvious tension in the air was the fact that all of them were trying desperately to pretend that it wasn't there. Each trying to wear some kind of face of calm composure when it was clear that none of them could think about much except the fact that Rick, Daryl, and Glenn were out there somewhere, and that they wouldn't have any way of knowing where they were or how long it would be before they returned.

Carol had only allowed herself the luxury of weeping in her cell the night before. She'd been fairly certain that she'd masked her sobs with pillows, and that thanks to the worry on everyone else's minds and the sobbing that issued forth from Maggie's cell, no one had noticed hers.

She wanted to remain collected in front of them all, envying Michonne her ability to mask the majority of her emotions. Carol wasn't sure why, but she felt like they were looking at her, like if she broke down the rest of them would crumble. It was hard enough to pretend that things were fine when they knew that Maggie had cried herself almost to the point of being sick and that Beth was a nervous wreck. Carol knew that they didn't need her collapsing with worry as well.

The only thing she knew to do, then, was to try to keep doing the menial tasks that every day afforded them. No matter what she felt like on the inside she had to at least manage to pull of the appearance of being far more collected than she was. Otherwise they'd all fall apart, and that could be dangerous, especially when none of them really knew what was coming next.

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Daryl had stirred Rick and Glenn just as the sun was beginning to rise. He didn't want to waste daylight, so he urged them eat some of their rations for breakfast and pack the rest up. They'd made quick and silent work of it, abandoning their little shed and they'd stepped back out.

It wasn't difficult to pick up the path. They'd been lucky and it hadn't rained or anything. Daryl immediately fell in place and began to follow the trail again. Today he was almost following it frantically. He didn't want to waste another day, and he certainly didn't want to spend the night in another damp shed. If he did, however, have to spend another night in a shed, he wanted to do it with the feeling of victory instead of with the feeling of anticipation.

"Keep up," he growled, noticing that his travel companions were lagging somewhat behind.

"We're coming, Daryl," Rick said, "but do we have to jog?"

"We gotta find that son ofa bitch today," Daryl said. "We ain't gonna waste no more time than we have ta playin' 'round in the woods."

He continued on, not deterred by the speed of Rick and Glenn, who despite their lack of enthusiasm for the pace he'd set, were still doing a good job of managing any Walkers that took an interest in them.

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After dinner was served, Carol quickly ate her portion. She was always the last to be served, but this time she was almost one of the first to be finished. She knew they needed water for the morning and she wanted to get out there and get it before it got too late. Dusk was already beginning to settle around them.

Beth had finished early, being one of the first to sit and eat. Carol caught her attention and she'd come over, questioning Carol's waving.

"Can you come with me? We need water for the morning, and I want to get it quickly. It'll be dark soon and we don't want to be out there."

Beth had enthusiastically agreed to go with Carol, commonly accompanying her on water runs. Carol had rushed out with her, gathering up the buckets. Both of them armed, they set out toward the gates and let themselves out, as they often did, headed toward the area where they collected water.

Carol cleared the way, mostly, of the ambling Walkers that bunched around the area. There weren't many of them and any threat they posed was more than manageable.

"If Rick and Tyreese ever get the generators working," Beth said, "then we won't have to do this anymore. We'll have running water, and maybe even _hot_ running water."

"It's not that bad," Carol responded. The truth was that under different circumstances she would have been excited at the concept of hot running water, but under the current circumstances it seemed like one of the most trivial things ever.

Beth, apparently realizing that Carol was more worried than she let on and didn't want to talk about the chance of future luxuries, changed her topics of conversation.

"When do you think they'll be back?" Beth asked.

Carol didn't want to answer the question. She'd been wondering the same thing all day and she was sure that it was on the mind of everyone else. This would be the second night that they were gone, and it was much more time than Daryl had anticipated when they'd set out. Though, Carol had admitted to herself, he'd simply been optimistic. They'd had no real idea of knowing how far away the Governor was or how far his spies had travelled just to stake out the comings and goings of the prison.

"There's no way of telling," Carol said. "I'm sure they'll be back tomorrow." She tried to make her voice sound optimistic and to hide the worry that was there.

"Do you think they're alright?" Beth asked.

Carol was moved by the worry in the girl's voice.

"They'll be fine. They're all capable men, and Daryl won't let anything happen," she responded. For a moment her voice had sounded so sure of what she was saying that she'd almost believed herself. She knew she _hoped_ that what she had said was true, but she wasn't sure that she truly _believed_ it yet.

They'd reached the creek and Carol filled her bucket, setting it to the side. She'd stepped a little further down then, carrying Beth's bucket, offering to fill it so that the girl wouldn't slip in the slick mud around the creek.

When she'd turned to start back up the part of the bank that she'd descended, pain enveloped her, radiating forth from her head. She hadn't heard a thing. She hadn't even heard Beth when she'd tried to squeak out a warning.

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**AN: So I hope no one is too mad. I know cliff hangers are cruel, but at least they keep you thinking. I'll try to update as soon as possible!**


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: So I struggled after everyone was gone to bed to get this out for you. It isn't much, but it's another little step and it shines a little light on what's going on. I'll try to get you some more as soon as possible.**

**As always, thank you so much to all of you who read and take the time to review. You are awesome! I hope you enjoy this little piece of our story.**

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Daryl was losing patience and the light was beginning to fade. They'd have to stop yet again, and from the signs they were no closer to finding the Governor and his men than they'd been before. Daryl had never intended for them to be away from the prison for so long, yet here they were.

"He ain't gonna be out here in the middle of the fuckin' woods," Daryl spat, still trying to follow the winding trail. "He ain't gonna go from what the hell he built at Woodbury to livin' out here eatin' sticks an' shit."

"We've got to be getting close, though," Glenn said. "I can't believe he'd send his men all this way just to go to the prison to _spy_ on us."

"We damn well better be close," Daryl said. "We ain't got the rations ta be gone much longer, and they gon' think somethin' happened to us back at the prison."

He kept going, trying to push forward as much as they possibly could before the light left them. He certainly didn't want to spend another night out here after this one, and he could imagine that everyone at the prison was worried. He thought, maybe, that Carol might be worried too, and if she was, he didn't want her to have enough time to get _too_ worried before they got back.

As a small clearing and a building of some sort appeared ahead of them, Daryl began to confess to himself that they were going to have to stop soon. He began to steer himself toward the building, his eyes leaving the trail for a moment. However, he soon noticed that the closer he got to the building, the more often the trail appeared again, half swept away here, crossing over itself there. Regardless of its condition, however, it was clear. The trail was leading them straight to the building in front of them.

"What the fuck?" Daryl growled. He rushed toward the building then, realizing that it was a small barn or something of the like. Painted across the entire front of the building, in dripping black letters, was a message that he was sure was meant for them.

_You've struck FOOL'S GOLD._

The message hung there, taunting Daryl for a moment. He turned back, not entirely sure of what to tell them. It was clear that they had realized what had happened as well.

Daryl felt the anger bubbling up inside him.

"Damn it!" Daryl said. "The fucker tricked us to lure us all the fuckin' way out here. We gotta go back ta the prison!"

"Daryl, calm down!" Rick said, reaching out toward Daryl but not touching him. "We'll sleep here tonight and we'll go back in the morning, first thing. It won't take us as long because we don't have to follow all the circles of the trail, we'll just go straight back."

"Don't you fuckin' get it, Rick? He lured us away from the prison to weaken it, he's prob'ly already fuckin' on 'em!" Daryl spat. Glenn had backed off to the side and Rick put his hands on Daryl's shoulders, holding him tight.

"Or he might have lured us out here to pick us off," Rick said. "Either way we can't go back in the dark. We wouldn't make it. We'll take turns keeping watch tonight and we'll go back to the others first thing in the morning."

Daryl finally agreed. As much as he hated the idea of spending another night out here, especially knowing they'd all fallen for the Governor's trick, and as much as he was worried about everyone that they'd left behind, he knew that Rick was right. They wouldn't be likely to make it back to the prison under the current conditions, and they needed to get back in order to help the others however they could.

"Fine…" Daryl said, "we might as well fuckin' make camp here, out of his little fuckin' joke."

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Carol's mouth was dry and her head was pounding as she started to come to. A light was blinding her as she started to try to crack her eyes open, and she became aware, quickly, that her right eye was swollen almost completely shut. She began to grow afraid then, slowly coming into consciousness. She had no idea where she was or what was going on. She was lying down, and it felt like she was lying on something soft. She instinctively tried to move her arms, and the sound of metal on metal, along with the tug at her wrists suggested that she was restrained.

"You're awake," a voice said. Carol blinked and turned her head, her vision starting to focus. All she could see straight ahead of her was a ceiling, and though she wanted to lift her head, the aching of her body made her not want to use her neck for such an effort.

"I was starting to think you might not wake up this time," the voice said again. It was a woman's voice. It sounded almost pleasant. Carol was confused.

"Where am I?" She asked. Her voice croaked out and Carol almost didn't recognize it as her own.

"Where are you right now, or in the grand scheme of things?" The voice questioned. "As for right now, I can tell you that you're in a hospital bed in the greatest medical facility that I have available for the time being. In the larger scale, I'm afraid I can't tell you where you are."

Carol struggled then to lift her head a little, ignoring the pounding in her head and the protesting of all her muscles. She caught sight of a young brunette wearing a white coat. She shook her head just a little, trying to determine if this was real.

The woman moved closer to her, leaning over her a little.

"Just relax, I'm not going to hurt you. That's not my job. I'm Alice," the woman said. She smiled at Carol. "I _am_ going to start an IV for you, though, so don't jerk away from me."

Carol dropped her head back, staring up again at the ceiling. She had no idea, really, where she was or how she had arrived there. She realized she was breathing hard, and that she almost had no control over it. Her chest ached each time she inhaled and exhaled. She ignored the pinch of the needle in her right hand. She tugged at the restraints on her left hand.

"There's no need to fight against the cuffs," Alice said. "They're tight, and even I don't have the keys to them. I couldn't let you loose if I wanted to."

"What happened?" Carol asked.

"You don't remember?" Alice asked.

Carol shook her head. The woman appeared again, leaning over her.

"Nothing?" Alice asked.

"No, what happened?" Carol repeated the question.

"I guess it's for the better that you don't remember. Sometimes our brains are kind enough to wipe out things, right?" Alice asked.

Carol worried then.

"The Governor, he took you and that little Barbie girl that you were with. Rather, I should say that Martinez and Ralph took you," Alice said. "They've been questioning the both of you, but apparently you're pretty resilient. You wouldn't give them much help in whatever they were questioning you about. I told them, though, that you probably wouldn't make it through another round of questioning if they didn't let me take care of you for a little while. You're lucky, really, that Hank wants you."

Carol was even more confused. She had no idea what was going on here other than the fact that the Governor had obviously had something to do with bringing her here. That meant Beth was here too, somewhere, wherever _here_ was.

"What? Why does Hank want _me_?" Carol asked. She didn't know who this Hank person was, and she wasn't sure what part she played in the plan of the Governor or in whatever was taking place.

"The Governor has made it tradition that of all the groups that he brings in, if there are any women that he doesn't _really_ have plans for, he lets his men pick out of them if they want someone. When he's done with them, he gives them over to whoever laid claim to them. It's disgusting, really, but no one cares about my opinions here. Most of the men don't really care how long they have the women, they typically get what they want from them pretty quickly. Hank, however, has always been a little different. Hank wanted a woman that he could _keep_, a long term woman, so to speak. The Governor told him that was fine, but when Hank finally found one that he really liked, there was an accident and she didn't survive the Governor's questioning. So this time, Hank picked you over the Barbie, being given first choice. The Governor doesn't have any particular plans for you, so the orders are to keep you alive, or at least try to, so that Hank gets his payment," Alice said.

Carol's head throbbed trying to take in everything the woman was saying, and it was clear that she hadn't nearly said everything there was to say, nor was she done with her explanation.

"You're lucky, really. Hank, he's a pretty nice guy. He seems pretty gentle, you know? He's like me, a creature of circumstance. It's not that we really belong here, it's more that we all do what we have to do out of a need for survival. Hank, he's like that. He shouldn't treat you too badly once he has you to himself. As long as you go along with him, I don't imagine he'll be bad at all. He doesn't enjoy the torture the way that some of them do…" the woman's voice trailed off again. "Yep, from what I understand, you're going to come out the lucky one from your group."

"The others, are they OK?" Carol asked. She was terrified now, and she drew some of her strength from that, absentmindedly fighting against the restraints and realizing she couldn't move her legs either.

"I don't know," Alice's voice said. Carol struggled to raise her head again, the woman had walked away for a moment. "At least I don't know personally," the woman continued. "You're the only one that I have right now. Did you know you were pregnant?"

Carol's heart almost stopped. She had forgotten entirely about the whole situation for the time being. She thought then about Daryl. He would be there. He and Rick and Glenn had set out to find the Governor, that she did remember. She remembered going for water. Slowly a few other thoughts flashed through her mind and she hoped they weren't memories.

Daryl would come for them, though. He'd be there.

The woman was back over her now.

"I ran a panel on you," Alice explained. "You're still pregnant, at least for now, but I really can't imagine that's for long. You should rest, though. I'll see if I can get you something to eat. If anyone comes while I'm gone, remember to act as weak as possible. I might be able to keep you here a little longer, but it won't last too long if they think you're ready for another round."

Carol wanted more explanation from the woman. She wanted to know where Beth was, what had happened to her. She wasn't sure that she wanted to know any more about her own situation. The pain that coursed through her body and the flashes of images that she prayed were not memories were more than enough. She closed her eyes without responding to the woman and thought she heard her leaving. She hoped that the next voice she'd hear was Daryl's, instead of someone else, obviously coming to get her because _Alice_ couldn't keep her there any longer.

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The group raced through the woods covering ground as quickly as they could. They stopped only when they absolutely had to in order to catch their breath and gulp down a swallow of the little remaining water that they had.

"I can't believe I was so fuckin' stupid!" Daryl growled when Rick had finally urged him to stop again.

"We all fell for it, Daryl, it wasn't just you," Rick said, panting for air like the rest of them. The attempt to cover the same distance in less than one third of the time wasn't going to play out the way that they had hoped. Daryl had seemed to overestimate the speed at which they could travel for long periods of time.

"Do ya know how fuckin' long we been gone, Rick? Do ya know how much coulda happened since we left?" Daryl said.

Daryl didn't want to admit to the two men with him, but he was terrified. He was terrified that the Governor and whatever men he had with him had attacked the prison. Maybe they'd killed the others, maybe they'd taken them hostage. There was no telling what they were going to find when they finally made it back. Daryl could only hope that their little trip hadn't cost them the lives of their group. He could only admit to himself that, though he was worried about everyone, his real concern was with Carol. He hadn't done what he needed to do when he'd left, and now he couldn't stand to think that it might be too late.

"We gotta keep movin'," he said. "I ain't fuckin' sleepin' out here tonight. We gonna get back tonight, and that's all there fuckin' is to it!"

He started off again, pushing himself to move faster than his screaming muscles wanted to move. He was aware of Rick and Glenn behind him, and he was aware of the loud pulsing noise of his own blood and the sound of his hard breathing in his ears, but he was determined to push past everything and make it back to the prison.

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"I know it'd be easier if you could use your hands," Alice said, spooning soup into Carol's mouth, "but as I told you, I don't have the keys to the cuffs. They don't trust me that much."

"Why not?" Carol asked in between mouthfuls of soup.

"Because I'm not one of them," Alice said. "I'm here because my group got taken randomly. We didn't have anything they wanted, so the choice was pretty much join up with them, do what they wanted without question, and live, or go against them and die. At least my job is helping people when they let me. I know it doesn't make it right, but at least it's something that I can live with."

Carol enjoyed the soup mostly because it was warm and wet and her throat was raw. She wasn't sure why, but if the thoughts that flashed through her mind were correct, it probably became that way through screaming. She shuddered.

"Beth, the girl that was with me, is she OK? Have you seen her?" Carol asked. Alice lowered her eyes and forced another spoonful of soup at Carol.

"I really don't know," she said. "I haven't seen her since you got here. I don't know where she is now, or how she is. They haven't brought her back here."

"And me? How many times have I been here?" Carol asked.

"This is the second time," Alice explained. "The first was just for me to look you over after Hank picked you. I didn't tell them you were pregnant, though. I thought they might enjoy that too much. I could tell Hank if you want me to," she offered. "Hank's the type that might like that, might get the Governor to turn you over to him earlier…he might want to keep it if there's any saving it now."

Carol shuddered again. The thought of this Hank individual nauseated her. The thought of being any man's _property_ made her sick to her stomach. Ed had always made her feel like he owned her, and she didn't want that again. She didn't want to _belong_ to any man, unless it was Daryl Dixon. That was the only exception she was willing to make. Furthermore, the thought of this Hank wanting Daryl's baby as his own was even more troublesome to her. Daryl didn't even know about the baby, but she still didn't want this Hank individual laying claim to it if they both made it through this.

All Carol really wanted right now was Daryl to come bursting through that door and save her before the men that Alice warned would be back chose to return.

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As they came up on the fences to the prison, Daryl heard a soft rustling in the grass around him. He turned quickly, his crossbow raised and ready to fire. Just as he was about to shoot an arrow off in the direction of the noise, he realized he was face to face with Michonne's katana.

The two of them stood there frozen for a moment before they both lowered their weapons.

"Damn it, woman, I almost fuckin' shot ya!" Daryl said loudly.

"Me?" Michonne asked in a much quieter tone. "I almost cut your fucking head off."

"What the hell are ya doin' out here any damn ways?" Daryl asked, panting for air. Rick and Glenn came up behind him, both gasping.

"Waiting for _them_," Michonne said. Daryl wasn't surprised when a Walker came ambling toward them and she nonchalantly beheaded it.

"Them who?" He asked, aware that they were standing outside of safety, but not really worried because any Walker that started to approach fell before anyone else could bother to go for a knife.

"The Governor, or his men, or whoever was here," Michonne said. "They took Carol and Beth. I imagine they'll be back for the rest of us, so I thought I'd be here to greet them."

"What the fuck do ya mean they took Carol and Beth?" Daryl asked.

Daryl's heart suddenly felt like it would explode. He wasn't sure what a heart attack was supposed to feel like, but he was certain that's what was happening to him.

"Last night," Michonne said, "someone took both of them. They went out for water and didn't come back. When we came looking there was signs of a struggle and some tracks near the creek."

Daryl rushed forward, jogging to the area where they normally collected water. He tried to pick up some tracks there, but it was too dark to see anything with the dusk upon them.

"What the fuck?" He spat, turning around. "No one went after them?"

"Who was going after them, Daryl?" Michonne asked. "You were gone and I can't track."

"Well we gotta go an' get 'em!" He responded.

"Daryl," Rick said, somewhat calmly, his breathing slowing a little now. "We can't go right now. We need to go in and sleep on it. We can gather a group and go first thing in the morning. Right now it won't do us any good to go on another wild goose chase."

"Man, fuck that! I'm sick 'a sleepin' on shit! They got Carol and Beth, Rick! Do ya even know what they coulda done to 'em by now? We can't sleep on this!" Daryl protested.

Michonne stood there a minute and walked toward Daryl. She put her hand on his shoulder and he flinched away, but she didn't move it.

"Rick's right," she said in a very low, but somehow calming voice, "we can't go tonight because it's too dark. I know you're worried, but running off right now won't help them. I'll go with you first thing in the morning, but we need to rest tonight. Get your strength up. We'll go and get them, but I need you to keep it together. I need you to track and I'd rather have you as my back up than have you falling to pieces."

Daryl looked at the woman. She looked genuinely concerned. He turned back to look at the ground, once again squinting against the growing darkness. He realized they were right. Tonight wasn't going to give them a good opportunity for tracking whoever had come, but that didn't mean he was going to like the delay.

Daryl had finally given in and returned with the others to the prison, declaring that they would start out at first light. He'd eaten what they'd offered him and gone to bed immediately, acutely aware of how empty his bed felt and how everything around him smelled like Carol, yet he couldn't find her anywhere. He closed his eyes. He'd never been a man for praying before, and he wasn't sure that he really had any leg to stand on with the God he was asking for favors, but he prayed that they would find her tomorrow and that she would be fine. He prayed this was the last night he was going to have to spend without her, and he prayed for the strength to let her know that he didn't want to lose her, despite the fact that he'd been unable to admit it before.


	19. Chapter 19

Daryl left the next morning just as the sun was clearing the horizon. He took Rick, Glenn, and Michonne with him. They'd packed a variety of weapons into knapsacks, intending to go on foot so as to not alert the Governor of their approach in any way. It was slower, but it was the only way he was going to be able to track whoever had taken Beth and Carol. As he worked to pick up a trail that was separate, and much more straightforward, than the one he had taken earlier, he was grateful that it hadn't rained.

His travel companions followed behind him silently, all worried about what was ahead of them. They had no way of knowing how many men the Governor had or how far they had to go to find him. What was clear to Daryl, however, was that there were at least four men. The tracks he was following this time were very different than the ones he'd followed before. There were also tracks from Beth and Carol, and it times it was clear the men had been dragging them. Daryl shuddered. He thought that anyone, tracker or not, could have followed this trail.

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Carol blinked the one eye open that she could still use in response to someone touching her face. She expected Alice, but instead she found herself looking up at a slightly overweight middle aged man with a beard. It had been red once, but now it was heavily greying. The man smiled at her she felt him stroking her arm. She shuddered a little. She remembered, though, what Alice said about acting weak, so she made no other movements.

"Oh good, you're awake," the man said. "They said they was comin' soon and I sneaked in here to see you before they got here."

The man patted her head, stroking her hair. He frowned.

"You got some blood in your hair, but that'll wash up just as soon as I can get you a proper bath," he said. Carol took a deep breath as she felt him groping at her, examining her. His hands seemed to trail all over her body. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she was surprised she could still produce them. She was so thirsty that she would have thought she was completely dehydrated. She felt him push at her stomach and she suddenly had the urge to vomit coupled with the sharp realization that she had to pee something awful. She gagged without meaning to and that intensified the other feeling.

"Easy," the man said. He rubbed her thigh now. "You need me to get Alice?"

Carol gagged again and felt the food come up in her throat. She was suddenly terrified she was going to choke to death on her own vomit if she couldn't change positions. She nodded her head frantically and the man got up. A few minutes later Alice came in and leaned over her.

"What's going on?" She asked.

Carol wanted to choke out a reply, but all she could do was gag. The heaving sent searing pains through her chest and she felt the tears that had threatened to come out earlier burn her cheeks.

"Oh, OK," Alice said. "I can't take the cuffs off of you, I already told you that." She put her hand on Carol's face and tipped it to the side. "If you've got to throw up, do it."

Carol tried to will herself not to be sick.

"It's OK," Alice urged. "People throw up, it happens."

Carol heaved again finally some contents of her stomach came up. The angle of her face didn't help her to be able to spit out, though, and it immediately began to choke her, making her panic.

"Hank, go get Ralph and tell him I need those keys immediately. I've got to have one of her hands free at least to get her up some or she's going to choke to death," Alice ordered.

Carol struggled to maintain herself. Everything she did to try to stop the choking only intensified the gagging. She was pretty sure that she'd already let go of her bladder and on top of her already dire situation that humiliated her.

When another man appeared and unlocked one of the cuffs, Carol couldn't even think of taking advantage of her freedom for anything except getting up enough to effectively empty the contents of her stomach, despite the fact that it was the floor that was her target. When she finally stopped gagging all that was left was sobbing. _This_ was how she was going to die. After all they'd come through, she was going to die pathetically, unable to even take herself to the bathroom and maintain any sense of human dignity.

The man that had unlocked the cuffs hadn't left. As Carol glanced around she saw the face of Alice, who was attempting to look comforting or sympathetic, and the face of Hank who was steadily watching her.

"It's OK," Alice offered. "I've cleaned up much worse. Ralph and Martinez, they're here to get you, but I'll clean you up when you get back."

Carol looked at Alice then, terrified. The woman seemed sympathetic again.

"No!" Carol managed to squeak out between sobs. "No, no, no…" She could barely breathe now. Her heart was pounding. The man who must have been Ralph grabbed her free hand and the other put a bag over her head before releasing the other cuff.

"You gonna be fine," she heard the voice of Hank say, "I told the Governor to go easy on you 'cause of the baby."

Carol thought that she would have puked again if there had been anything left in her stomach. She tried to struggle against the men, but they were too strong for her and both of her hands were cuffed behind her back before she had any hope of escaping. She felt them unfasten her legs and the next thing she knew one of them had roughly thrown her over their shoulder. She was being carried somewhere, though she had no idea where. She only wished now that she had the ability to return to the unconscious state that she had enjoyed before.

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As soon as they'd come upon it, looming just ahead, Daryl knew they'd found where the Governor was. Without question the gated community in front of them was his hiding place, and Daryl didn't even need the trail to tell him that.

What was better than finding the Governor's lair, though, was the fact that several members of the "town" he seemed to be trying to create after his failed attempt at Woodbury was traipsing about in the streets. Even from this distance Daryl could tell that the people were calm and unaware. The Governor wasn't on any kind of serious guard at all. He probably hadn't suspected that they'd find them, or that they'd be back from his little wild goose chase.

"What are we going to do?" Rick asked. Daryl looked back at the people they could see strolling around. On the one hand, it was possible that the people knew nothing about the diabolical nature of the man that was leading their little holding place. On the other, Daryl was beginning to think that he didn't want to allow anyone who had been close to the Governor to continue on, perhaps recreating his legacy.

"I'm goin' in," Daryl said. "I don't fuckin' care 'bout the idiots that went with the Governor. I'm goin' ta get Beth an' Carol an' kill that asshole. We kill whoever tries ta fuckin' stop us."

"I agree," Michonne said, "but we don't go in there. There are too many people. We'll go around, try to find a place where there aren't too many people and sneak in over the fence. He's not likely to be located in a central location anyway. Too many people around."

Daryl agreed with the woman and let her take the lead. They moved as quietly as they could and tried to stay out of sight of any curious bystanders. Finally they found a place that looked abandoned in the far corner of the community. Working together they got over the fences. Daryl looked around. He wouldn't have imagined the Governor would be anywhere around, and he'd probably have decided to go closer to the area where they'd seen the people earlier, if it hadn't been for Michonne catching his attention.

The street looked abandoned, that much was true. It _looked_ abandoned. What had Michonne's attention, though, and now had Daryl's with the nudging of his elbow and a finger pointed in the direction, was that there was a generator out here. A generator, so far from the other good members of the community, was definitely a red flag that wasn't to be ignored.

Around them were houses. They all seemed fairly quiet, but Daryl was suddenly surer than he'd been of anything in a while that they'd find what they wanted in these houses.

"We gotta start lookin'," Daryl said, keeping his voice low. "Michonne an' me will go ta that house an' y'all go ta that one," he said pointing at the various houses. Do whatever ya gotta do, but kill the Governor the minute ya can an' get our girls if ya get the chance."

Rick and Glenn silently agreed and started off in the direction of the house they were designated. Daryl and Michonne started in the direction of the one that he'd chosen for them.

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A few failed attempts had left them with nothing. Glenn and Rick had crossed paths with Daryl and Michonne a few times in the street, each heading off to a new location. It wouldn't be long until they'd exhausted all the houses on the street and Glenn was growing disheartened.

Finally, though, they'd found one door that had given away just as they'd tried to quietly open it. Immediately stepping into the house they'd found that it was aglow with lights, _electric_ lights. Glenn grew a little excited at the thought that they had found something, though he didn't know yet what it was.

They tried to quietly sneak through the house. The downstairs was clearly set up to be some kind of storage unit, and appeared to be abandoned. Glenn and Rick moved their way through the rooms. Glenn realized that the rooms were stocked with medical supplies. The house was either a storage unit of some sort or a type of infirmary. It appeared they'd very likely stripped a hospital clean of its contents.

The downstairs seemed to be abandoned, and Glenn might have thought the whole place was abandoned, until he heard a cough upstairs.

Rick caught Glenn's eyes then and Glenn pointed toward the ceiling. They both tried to ascend the stairs as quietly as possible, wishing not to alarm anyone they might find. Just as he cleared the landing, Glenn ducked back down a little. He could see a man slumped in a chair as though he was attempting to sleep. He had a gun, but it was resting in his lap. There was no way of telling how many others there were up there, but for the moment it seemed like he was alone.

Glenn had never even considered before the act that he was about to commit. The very thought of it chilled his blood. He didn't want to risk the man waking and attacking them, though, so he summoned up his courage and pulled his gun, taking aim at the individual. Before Rick could say anything, he fired, thankful for the silencer.

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This time when they'd descended silently into the basement, they found that there were lights on. Daryl carefully turned the corner of the room, Michonne close enough to him that he could feel her breath, and saw the two men before they could see him. He ducked back a little, pushing Michonne back with him. He raised a finger to his mouth and tried to load his crossbow as quietly as possible. He leaned around the corner again. One of the men was crouching down over something, or rather someone, and the other man was standing to the side, buckling his pants.

Daryl's lip raised almost instinctively. He raised his crossbow as quietly as possible and fired at the man who was buckling his pants, bringing him down instantly. He ducked back just as the other man turned. Daryl was attempting to load his crossbow again as Michonne slipped around him. He heard a gunshot and a moment later a thud. His stomach churned as he loaded the arrow, expecting to find Michonne wounded, or worse.

When he came around, though, she wasn't the one that had fallen. She'd apparently dodged the bullet intended for her and had mercilessly parted the man's head from his shoulders. She was currently occupied with whatever he'd been slumped over. As Daryl got closer he realized there were chains coming down from the rafters of the unfinished basement, and attached to those chains was an unresponsive figure. He rushed forward and found that Michonne was trying to free an almost unrecognizable Beth from her bonds.

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When Daryl had crossed their paths again in the street, Glenn had not expecting him to be alerting them to the fact that they had found Beth and that he was going in search of Carol. He'd quickly barked some kind of instruction for finding her, and Glenn had only caught half of it, instinctively rushing toward the house that he'd last seen Daryl and Michonne enter.

Michonne had darted out the door, wide eyed, just as they'd mounted the porch steps.

"She's in the basement. Bring her up," Michonne commanded. She bounded off then, leaving Rick and Glenn alone. Glenn snatched open the door and started inside, hoping to find Beth alive.

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Daryl was surprised that the next house he found was illuminated but seemingly abandoned. He slipped immediately to the basement, knowing well the layout from the previous houses. He darted down the stairs when he found that there was a light glowing in the darkness below. He had no idea where the Governor was, but at this point the only thing that occupied his mind was finding Carol.

As Daryl rounded the corner of the basement, he expected come face to face with the Governor, or even with some of his men. Instead he found the room entirely abandoned except for another scene like they'd seen before. He rushed forward, fearing the worst. When he dropped to his knees, though, he was positive that the person he'd found was indeed Carol.

Daryl couldn't tell if she was alive or not. She was bloody, and almost unrecognizable. He struggled at the chains that held her wrists and held her off the floor, but he wasn't strong enough to break them with his hands. He needed some sort of tool and all the tools had been put in Glenn's backpack.

Daryl collected Carol up as delicately as he could and pulled her into his lap. He didn't think she was breathing. Suddenly he felt like he was suffocating. Carol's head rolled back and rolled against his chest and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to free her from the chains, but he couldn't. If she was dead then she would turn, but the moment he didn't care.

"I'm sorry," he said. He was sure she couldn't hear him, but he had never been so overwhelmed in his life. Desperately he tugged in vain again at the chains. "I'm so sorry," he repeated, feeling emotions coming up in him that he was afraid would take over entirely. He knew that he should try to find the Governor, he should try to find Glenn, but at the moment all he could do was hold the lifeless form in his lap and fight back the tears.

Daryl heard a sound behind him and grabbed his crossbow off the ground instantly, turning a little. He was willing to protect the lifeless body on top of him for as long as he could.

"It's me," Glenn said, stepping into the light, his hands raised.

Daryl didn't respond to him. He simply put his crossbow down and went back to cradling Carol, his hands ghosting over her frame.

"I brought the bolt cutters," Glenn said softly, stepping up and working to cut through the chains. "Michonne is gone, probably looking for the Governor. Rick has Beth. I don't know how we're going to get out of here with her. Is she…" Glenn's voice trailed off.

As soon as Carol's arms slumped free of their restraints Daryl struggled to his feet, heaving her body up. Glenn grabbed his crossbow. He couldn't bring himself to respond to the boy's questions. He cradled her to him and carried her up the dimly lit stairs of the basement. Once outside the forsaken house he found Rick with an unresponsive Beth.

"Is she…" Rick asked.

Daryl refused to respond, mostly because he didn't know. He just shrugged somewhat and felt Glenn's hand on his shoulder.

Glenn ducked his head and put his ear to Carol's chest. Daryl took her in a little then, more clearly in the light of day. She was nearly stripped of her clothes, and he ached to see the abuse that had been heaped upon her. He'd never have let this happen if he could have avoided it and regretted now more than ever being too big of a pussy to tell her he loved her before they'd left.

"She's alive," Glenn said.

Daryl perked up, but suddenly was overwhelmed with urgency. He bounded off the steps with her, in search of anything with a motor. He rested her in the seats of several vehicles searching for one that would run. He finally became aware of Glenn, Beth thrown over his shoulder, doing the same thing.

Finally Daryl found a truck that would crank.

"Come on," he managed to get out, realizing that his voice was hoarse from attempting to choke back the tears he felt. "Ain't got time ta be pussy footin' around." He loaded Carol in the seat and took notice of Glenn crawling in the back of the truck with Beth. He had no idea at this moment where Rick and MIchonne were, but he knew he had to get Carol back to the prison. He had to get her back to Hershel before it was too late, and he could only hope that the other two could find their way back.

Daryl slammed the door and threw the truck into gear. He roared through the community, more than a little aware of the various people scattering about looking confused. When he finally spotted the gates, he drove toward them, relieved to find an exit. Two people stood at the gates, looking terrified, as though they wouldn't abandon their posts.

Daryl glanced over at Carol lying in the seat, crumpled up, her head against his thigh. He decided that if they weren't concerned enough with their own lives to get out of his way, then he wasn't concerned either. He revved the engine and the truck jumped forward. The two people flung themselves out of the way just as he slammed the truck through the metal gates, grabbing at Carol with his right arm to make sure she didn't roll off the seat.

Daryl briefly glanced in the rearview mirror and verified that Glenn and Beth were still in the back before he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and roared toward the prison.


	20. Chapter 20

When they got back to the prison it was Carl who opened the gate for the truck speeding toward it. Daryl had simply knocked several of the Walkers looming about out of his way. He was sure it hadn't been the smoothest ride for Glenn and Beth in the back because it hadn't been easy to hold on in the cab of the truck.

Once inside Glenn had taken Beth directly to Hershel's constructed office. Daryl's stomach sunk when he realized he was going to have to wait his turn. He took Carol to their cell and laid her on the bed. He didn't know what to do. He stood there awkwardly, mentally counting how long it was taking Hershel to come. Maggie appeared a few minutes later with a bucket of warm water and a washcloth.

"Beth's coming to a little. Daddy is going to be a while. I'm going to clean Carol up, you can leave if you want or you can stay," Maggie said.

Daryl didn't miss how she was looking at him. She looked like she was trying to read how he was reacting to this and he didn't care at all.

"I'll do it," he said, reaching for the bucket.

Maggie handed it to him.

"At least let me help you then," Maggie said. "Has she come to any?" Maggie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and making a move to take off what was left of Carol's clothes.

"She look awake ta ya?" Daryl growled. He pulled his knife out of his belt and pushed Maggie out of the way, cutting away the fabric. "Ain't like she'd ever wear nothin' that had fuckin' been with her there no way, no need to jostle her more than we gotta."

Maggie got up and then and moved to the corner of the cell, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed across her chest. Daryl reached to the corner of the bed and grabbed a blanket, covering Carol with it. He didn't mind washing her, but he would save her the indignity of being fully exposed to anyone who might decide to stop by and gawk at her.

"Glenn said y'all just left Rick and Michonne?" Maggie asked.

Daryl dipped the rag into the bucket of water and started dabbing at the dried blood on Carol's face.

"Get me some soap?" He asked.

He didn't know if leaving them behind was the nicest thing that he'd ever done, but both of them were pretty capable people. He felt somewhat confident that they'd make it back, and probably a lot easier than they would have if he and Glenn had waited them out and tried to escape another way with Beth and Carol.

Daryl tried to rub as gently as he could, not sure what was just dried blood that had been smeared and what was covering wounds. Maggie had disappeared and reappeared silently, handing him a bar of soap.

"I'm gonna need more water," Daryl said, realizing that he was just getting started and his water was already not very clean at all.

"I can get more," Maggie said. "Tyreese got the showers working. When she and Beth are able they'll be able to take a shower. We have hot water now."

"That's fuckin' wonderful," Daryl grunted. He didn't look up from his task. He didn't want to think about any of this. He didn't want to think about the fact that this never would have happened if he hadn't left. If he'd been at the prison he would have realized that they didn't come back quickly enough. He could have tracked those men before they'd ever even made it back to Governor's little lair. If the stupid water had been working only days before they wouldn't have even gone out there. This whole thing could have been avoided entirely if it hadn't been for some really stupid circumstances. And now Beth and Carol had paid the price.

Daryl could feel himself growing angrier and angrier. As he continued to wash Carol, accepting absentmindedly another bucket of warm water from Maggie, he started thinking about the Governor. If Rick and Michonne didn't kill him, Daryl _would_ kill him. It frightened him a little that the thought of killing the Governor was now his number one goal, and it was also frightening how much he was enjoying the thought of it. He was even relishing a little the thought of what he might do to him _before_ he killed him. Losing his head to Michonne's katana or simply taking an arrow through the heart really seemed too good to Daryl at the moment.

A moan escaped Carol's lips and she cracked one eye open slightly. Daryl jumped a little and he heard Maggie shuffle as though she'd backed away. Daryl stopped what he was doing and put his hand on Carol's face, swallowing hard. He realized that he had no idea what to say at that moment.

"Hey," he said, keeping his voice low. "Hey, we got'cha. You're OK now."

Carol looked at him for a minute, or at least looked in his direction, and then she closed her eye again. She didn't say anything. Daryl wasn't sure if she fully comprehended at the moment what was going on. He couldn't imagine what might be going through her mind. He was relieved, though, that at least she _could_ wake up, and he wondered if now she might even be awake and was simply playing possum because she maybe didn't even trust that she was seeing things clearly. He went back to washing her, taking his time so as to not notice how long it was taking Hershel to get there, and also because he didn't know where she was hurt, or how badly, and he didn't want to cause her any more pain than she'd already been through.

When Hershel finally game in, Daryl moved out of his way. He'd cleaned Carol as thoroughly as he could, and he'd noticed that once or twice she'd looked him. He had no idea what was going through her mind because she hadn't offered to say anything and she hadn't moved at all beyond slightly turning her head. Each time he caught her looking she would close her eye again. He was confident now that she was playing possum, but he still wasn't sure why.

"She's been awake," Daryl said. "I think she's awake now, but she ain't sayin' nothin'."

Hershel regarded him for a moment. Maggie put Hershel's bag down for him and slipped out of the cell to go and check on Beth.

Daryl stood back and watched silently as Hershel examined Carol thoroughly. He scuffed his boot at the floor. He could hear Beth. She wasn't taking the silent route like Carol. Instead she was screaming to beat the band.

"I'm not psychiatrist," Hershel said, continuing his examination, "but I don't think either of them trusts us yet, and I can't say that I blame them for that."

"Why don't she trust us?" Daryl asked. He bit at his thumb nail. He didn't like the idea that Carol wouldn't trust him. He'd never do anything to hurt her, at least not on purpose.

"I don't know, Daryl, if it's that they don't trust _us_ or that they don't quite believe that we're real. Beth hasn't responded to anything I said to her except to scream anytime anyone has touched her."

Hershel apparently finished whatever he was doing because he shifted himself back toward the head of the bed, leaning over Carol's face.

"Carol, it's Hershel. Can you talk to me? Can you tell me where you hurt?" He asked softly.

Daryl thought to himself that it was probably a stupid question. From the looks of them both he thought that "everywhere" might be an appropriate response.

"She's conscious," Hershel said finally, "but she sealed up tighter than a vault right now. Give her a little time. I'm going to get something to bind her ribs. At least two of them are broken, maybe more. It's hard to tell. Her left shoulder is dislocated too, so you're going to have to help me get it back in when I get back."

Hershel struggled to get up and Daryl moved to help him.

"Their injuries are minor," Hershel said, "all things considered. I don't think anything is fatal at least. I'm worried about concussions, so if she sleeps, wake her up about every hour, at least until I'm sure they're out of the woods. Physically they'll both come out of this. Mentally we might have a long road ahead."

Daryl didn't respond, he just nodded a little at Hershel and looked back toward Carol.

"Daryl," Hershel said, stopping just before he hobbled through the opening in their blanket, "has Carol talked to you about anything?"

Daryl was confused. He wrinkled his brow.

"I told ya she ain't said nothin'," Daryl said.

Hershel nodded his head.

"Fine," he said. "I'll be right back and we'll get her fixed up."

Daryl watched then as the old man hobbled through the opening. He went to the side of the bed and sat, taking Carol's right hand into his lap and gently rubbing at her cheek. It was killing him to think that she might be afraid of him right now, keeping her eye closed against him, though he knew that she was awake.

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Carol had broken her silence when they'd popped her shoulder back into place. The scream, however, wasn't comforting to Daryl, and neither were the whimpers that had escaped her while Hershel had bandaged her ribs. Daryl felt lost and helpless during the entire process. He wanted to take the pain away from her, but there wasn't any way of doing that. Hershel had finally convinced her to take something for pain, lamenting that it really wouldn't do much except maybe dull it a little. The only positive response they'd gotten out of her was that, though she didn't say anything, she had shown that she was fully interested in drinking more of the water that Hershel had offered her to swallow the pills. In response he'd sat, slowly tipping the bottle and helping her to drink.

When Hershel had left Daryl alone, he'd resumed the position of helping her drink the water. It took her forever to get any of it down, but he was fine with sitting there as long as she wanted to keep drinking it. At least it was some kind of response, and he had no idea how long it had been since she'd had anything to drink.

"Carol, you gotta talk ta me," he argued. "I'm as real as I'm ever gonna be. I'm sorry that he done this to ya an' he's gonna pay for it if he ain't already. I ain't gonna let nobody hurt ya no more, but ya gotta trust me."

The occasional scream rung out from Beth and Daryl reasoned with himself that at least Carol was only regarding him silently instead of screaming in protest every time he got close to her. He hoped that once they both rested some they'd realize that this wasn't some kind of hallucination and they really were back in the prison.

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Carl had drawn attention to the new arrivals when Rick and Michonne had come sauntering into the prison, both looking more than a little exhausted, just before the sun had set. Maggie was just serving up dinner to everyone and Daryl was waiting to take his back to the cell. She'd made soup for Carol and Beth, and he was going to see if he could get Carol to drink some of it.

When the two of them had come into the room, Daryl wondered if they would be angry for him having left them. It was clear that they had not avoided a fight of some sort, and both of them were filthy.

"What happened?" Glenn asked before Daryl could even speak.

"He's dead," Rick said. He accepted some water offered to him by Karen. "Michonne killed him."

Everyone sat silently. The declaration seemed too simple. This man had been terrorizing them. He'd cost lives, and he'd cost Beth and Carol at least some of whatever sanity they'd been retaining at the end of the world. He'd been looming over all of their heads and invading their dreams at night. And now, just like that, with one simple declaration he was _gone_. It almost seemed impossible.

"I hope he suffered," Daryl growled in response. He thought that everyone might think he was crazy for saying that, but he didn't care. Right now he was waiting for a cup of soup so that he could go back to his cell and try to convince a woman that he loved to drink it and to stop regarding him like he might punch her in the face at any given moment. Crazy or not, he _wanted_ to know that fucker suffered.

"I did my best," Michonne said quietly. She sucked down the contents of a bottle of water and refused a plate offered to her. "I'll eat later, I just want to get cleaned up."

"The showers are working now," Tyreese offered. "We've got hot water and everything. I can show you how to turn it on."

Michonne nodded at him and the two of them disappeared. Rick had gone to sit down now and Daryl joined him for a moment.

"What happened out there? I'm sorry I left y'all, I just wanted ta get 'em back here," Daryl said.

"It's OK, Daryl, you did the right thing. We killed the Governor, we killed anyone who protested his death and anyone who protested us walking right out the front gates that you took down," Rick responded.

"What about the others?" Daryl asked.

"We left them," Rick said. "Anyone who didn't bother us, we left."

Daryl nodded. He wasn't really sure what he would have done in their situation, so he couldn't exactly say that he was opposed to the decision that they'd made.

"How are Carol and Beth?" Rick asked after a second.

"'Bout how ya would think they'd be," Daryl responded. "Terrified, hurt…"

Rick clapped Daryl on the shoulder.

"Just give it time," he said. "At least the Governor won't be rearing his head anymore. When I found Michonne she'd already been enjoying herself with him."

Rick paused a moment.

"I almost thought she had lost it for a minute," Rick said. "She seemed to really like what she was doing to him."

Daryl looked at him.

"Don't mean she's lost it," Daryl said. "Just means she enjoyed doin' what the hell we all wanted ta do ta him. I'm _glad_ she enjoyed it."

Daryl got up then and went to get the food. He wanted to get back to the cell and make sure Carol wasn't sleeping too long. He was nervous about the concussion thing that Hershel had mentioned. He'd already drug an extra mattress in there and wedged it between the bed and the wall, deciding to sleep there.

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Hershel hobbled into the dining room and found Michonne there alone eating the cold leftovers from dinner.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Hershel asked.

Michonne kicked out the chair in front of her, but didn't say anything. Hershel maneuvered himself into sitting in the chair.

"We're all happy that you killed the Governor, and that you and Rick made it back alright," Hershel said.

"Piece of cake," Michonne said, taking another bite of food.

"I hate to do this," Hershel said after a minute, "but I need to ask you for a favor."

Michonne looked at him.

"What kind of favor?" She asked.

Hershel pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

"I need you to go on a run for me. Not right now, of course, but tomorrow if possible. It's a delicate subject and I wouldn't trust it to anyone else. People around here like to talk too much and I don't want it getting back to Daryl just through someone's gossip. It needs to be handled a little more delicately for him," Hershel said. He extended the paper toward Michonne and she took it, unfolding it and reading the list in the dim light of the lamp that was sitting between them. She wrinkled her forehead and looked at Hershel.

"Daryl doesn't know?" She asked finally.

"No, he doesn't know. Either she's got to tell him or I do. I will see tomorrow how she's feeling, if she's more responsive. If not, I've got to tell him, but I don't want him finding out from other people. I love Glenn, but he isn't very good at keeping secrets," Hershel said.

"I can go in the morning," Michonne offered.

"Fair enough," Hershel said. "I know you might need to take someone with you, just try not to tell them what all you're getting."

"I can go alone," Michonne said. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Just the same," Hershel said, "I'd feel better if someone went with you. I should have sent someone earlier, but we haven't known for very long and I really didn't think it stood much of a chance. I still don't know for sure, but she hasn't lost it yet. Whether she loses it tomorrow or goes full term, we've got to try and be as smart about it as we can."

Michonne didn't respond, she just nodded her head. Hershel sat there for a moment longer.

"I'll go in the morning," Michonne repeated. She got up and collected her plate to leave for whoever was going to wash the dishes.

Hershel watched her walk off and blew out the lamp, realizing that she wasn't coming back to where he was. She had silently declared the conversation a finished one.


	21. Chapter 21

**AN: You guys are so awesome! Thanks for all the review love.**

**I'm actually doing two chapters in one day…might go for three…who knows? I'm not at all ashamed that as an adult I'm sitting here, in my pajamas, pigging out on no bake cookies and writing fanfic all day. Not ashamed at all.**

**Shall we continue with our little story?**

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Daryl had barely slept at all. He was exhausted, but he felt like more of it came from the frustration that was building up inside him than from the fact that he hadn't slept. He was certain he'd probably woken Carol up more than every hour, but he kept getting scared that he wouldn't remember to wake her up and then she wouldn't wake up again.

Daryl felt a little caged, though. He had so much going on in his mind that he wanted to get away from it. He was considering asking Hershel to keep a watch on Carol while he went hunting. They could use some more meat, and it might do him good to just get out in the woods a while. He had hoped that when he woke up this morning it would all be a dream or that Carol would at least have snapped out of whatever it was exactly that she was going through, but so far that hadn't been the case.

When he passed back through the prison with his dishes after feeding Carol breakfast, he ran into Michonne. She had a backpack thrown over her shoulder and was wearing her katana.

"Goin' somewhere?" Daryl asked.

"I'm going to make a run, I'll be back," she replied.

"You goin' ta make a run _alone_?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah," she said.

"Like hell! I'm goin' with ya," he said.

A run wasn't hunting, but at least it would get him out of the prison and maybe give him a chance to sort through some of the stuff that had happened. He really didn't care too much about why Michonne had decided to go on a run, but he did care that she understand that he was going too.

"What about Carol?" Michonne asked.

"She ain't likin' me none right now noway," Daryl said. "I reckon it's all the same ta her if it's me or Hershel that checks on her."

Michonne regarded him. She finally shrugged and Daryl went to the kitchen to return the plates and then to find Hershel to tell him to keep an eye on Carol. He went back to his cell to get his crossbow. Carol appeared to be sleeping. Daryl went over and sat on the edge of the bed for a minute. He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair.

"I'm goin' on a run with Michonne," Daryl said. "I'm gonna be back soon. Hershel's gonna keep a check on ya. Maybe when I get back ya gonna feel like talkin' ta me. Love ya, woman."

He waited a moment but there wasn't any response at all. He thought maybe she really was sleeping this time. He got up, gathered up his crossbow and started out to find Michonne.

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"So where we goin' anyway?" Daryl asked, holding up the motorcycle and waiting for Michonne to climb on.

"The pharmacy," she responded, settling into place. Daryl got comfortable and cranked the motorcycle.

"Ya better hold on, ain't wantin' ta scrape ya up off the road nowhere," Daryl said. When Michonne was situated he pulled forward and waited for Glenn to open the gates for them. As they pulled out he enjoyed the growing speed of the motorcycle and the feel of the wind. Michonne hadn't clarified _which_ pharmacy she wanted to go to, and he decided he'd go at least one or two towns out to get a little extra time riding. Between the woods and his motorcycle, there was little that could help him relax more.

As they rode on, Daryl felt a lot lighter than he had at the prison. He had needed this, that much he was sure of now. He hoped that soon Carol would start responding to him. He wanted to know that she wasn't mad at him, that she hadn't changed her mind about how she felt about him. He'd already determined that he wasn't going to press her at all about what had happened at the Governor's little house of horrors. He didn't want to know anything that she didn't want him to know, and he didn't want her to have to talk about if it she didn't want to. If she did want to talk then he'd listen, but he wasn't going to drag it out of her.

When they finally reached a town that Daryl deemed appropriate, he pulled through the streets keeping an eye out for a pharmacy. When he finally saw one he pulled right up to the door. He stood and Michonne crawled off of the bike. He hopped off as well, and followed her toward the door.

"I've got it," Michonne said. "You keep watch out here."

Daryl looked at her. He smiled a little.

"Fine, ya wanna go in an' get your girly stuff all in private, I don't care. I ain't got no interest in knowin' 'bout that shit no way," he leaned against the wall and took a cigarette out of his pocket.

Michonne rolled her eyes at him and started into the pharmacy.

"Hey," Daryl called. She poked her head back out of the door. "Grab me some smokes if there's any in there," he said. She made no response, but he knew she'd grab whatever she could find. He lit the cigarette and puffed on it. He hadn't thought about it before, but he suddenly wondered if he should have gone in with her to make sure the place was cleared of Walkers. He shrugged a little. It was Michonne. There most assuredly wasn't a herd tucked inside the pharmacy and she was quicker than most of them at handling a few straggling Walkers.

Daryl puffed lazily at his cigarette. A Walker ambled toward him and he raised his crossbow, taking it down. He strolled over and yanked his arrow loose from its head. He finished the cigarette and flicked it at the ground.

Finally he decided to go in the pharmacy. There wasn't anything going on out here, and he wondered if there might be anything in there that he could get for Carol. Maybe he could find something that would cheer her up, at least a little.

When he slipped inside he didn't immediately find Michonne. She was in the back of the pharmacy, but she responded when he called out to her. He made his way behind the counter of the pharmacy and found there were several cartons of random cigarettes back there, along with some packs just strewn around the floor.

"Sweet!" Daryl said. He collected them all up and put them on the counter to stuff into MIchonne's bag. "Gotta question for ya," he called.

"What is it, Daryl?" Michonne asked. She came from the back now and started down one of the aisles. Daryl followed along, stepping over some Walkers on the ground that bore the evidence of Michonne's handiwork.

"Well you're a woman," Daryl said.

"You don't say?" Michonne called back.

Daryl snickered.

"Well if'n I wanted ta get somethin' for Caryl, somethin' that might cheer her up or somethin', what'cha think I oughta find her?" Daryl asked.

"What does she like?" Michonne asked.

Daryl was a little relieved that it didn't sound like Michonne was going to tease him for wanting to get something for Carol. He probably would have been embarrassed if someone like Glenn was here, but Michonne didn't seem to care about that kind of stuff like Glenn did. She didn't give anyone a hard time about anything.

"Don't know," Daryl said.

"I don't know, Daryl, look around. See if there's anything you think she might like. Get her a book or a stuffed animal or something," Michonne offered. Daryl listened to her shuffling around. He didn't know what she was getting, but it was obvious that she was a woman on a mission.

"Ya think that would make her feel better?" Daryl asked.

Michonne appeared in front of him almost instantly and he jumped a little.

"Honestly, Daryl? I don't think anything is going to make her feel better right now, but it might help," Michonne said. "There was a store we passed on the way in, not far from here. I'm going to pick up a few things. Go shopping, get some stuff you think she might like. It can't hurt. When you're done, look around a little and see if you can't find a trailer we can hitch to your motorcycle. We might as well take back whatever we can get."

Daryl bit at his thumb.

"I can do that," he said.

Michonne turned and started out the door.

"Don't'cha wanna leave the bag? Seems like ya done filled it up pretty good," Daryl said. He realized he'd have to find his own bag for anything he got, and he'd have to find some kind of trailer for sure. Michonne wasn't packing lightly.

"No," she said. She stopped just before she stepped out of the door. "Do you know what size clothes Carol wears?"

Daryl wrinkled his forehead.

"Nevermind, I'll figure it out," Michonne said, turning and disappearing out the door.

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Daryl had succeeded in finding a small trailer. It was large enough to hold most of what they crammed into it, and Michonne had taken one of the final backbacks to wear on the trip back. The town still had a lot to offer up and Daryl decided they'd send Glenn and Maggie for more stuff as soon as possible.

It was getting late, though, and it was time for them to end their outing. As they rode back, Daryl couldn't help but hope that Carol hadn't had a bad day. Maybe she'd be doing better when he got back. Maybe she'd be talking a little. He thought she might like some of the things that he'd grabbed for her. Maybe he was silly to think she would, but women were supposed to like gifts and he had no other ideas right now.

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When they got back to the prison and started unloading, Daryl was a little amused at Michonne. She'd quickly separated out the bags that he'd put in the trailer and the ones that she'd put in there. She was loading herself up with her bags like she was preparing to go off to war or something. She seemed like she was frantic to keep him from even _touching_ her bags, less likely helping her with them.

"Ya can calm down," Daryl said. "I ain't gonna rob ya or nothin'."

"I'm fine," Michonne said. She gathered up the last of the bags and started into the prison. Daryl watched her, trying not to laugh. His own three bags were nothing in comparison and he wondered if she was going to make through the door frame.

When Daryl finally came into the prison, Michonne and all her spoils had disappeared. He took his bags to the cell. Carol was obviously asleep. He put down the bags and walked over, shaking her gently. She woke up and looked at him.

"I told ya I'd be back," he said. "Ya wanna talk ta me now?"

Daryl hesitated a moment and sighed. There wasn't any way to _make _someone talk that simply had no intention of doing so. She did look a little more relaxed, though, so he wondered if they were making some progress.

"Fine, ya gotta talk eventually though," he said. "I gotta go do somethin' but when I get back I got'cha somethin'."

Daryl got up and rummaged through the bags coming up with what he was looking for. He left the room then and looked for Hershel, finding him in Beth's cell.

"How's she doin'?" Daryl asked.

"Some progress," Hershel said. "She's stopped screaming, but now she's practicing a vow of silence."

"How was Carol today?" Daryl asked.

"She actually told Maggie that she had to go to the bathroom, and Maggie helped her," Hershel said. He chuckled a little. "When Maggie told me she was so excited I thought she'd bust. I never thought we'd think it was such a great thing to hear someone say that nature was calling. I think they're in some kind of shock, but at least it may be wearing off some."

Daryl smiled a little at the thought. It was promising, though, and he hoped that meant that soon she'd relax enough to talk to them in general and not just when she needed to relieve herself.

"Uh," Daryl started looking at the teddy bear and the chocolate bars in his hand, "I got these for Beth," he said, shoving them toward Hershel. He only half glanced in the direction of Beth, not wanting to gawk at her any more than he wanted anyone in his cell gawking at Carol.

Hershel took them and smiled.

"That's sweet of you, Daryl. I'm sure she'll appreciate it." Hershel said. "Son, do you think that I could have a little talk with you? Maybe we could go for a little stroll around the courtyard after dinner?"

Daryl was worried. He couldn't imagine what Hershel might want to talk to him about unless there was something wrong with Carol. He didn't know why the man wouldn't have told him by now if there was something wrong with her that he didn't already know about.

"Yeah," Daryl said softly. "Fine, after dinner," he finished. He turned then and went straight back to the cell. Carol was awake. He drug one of the bags over to the side of the bed and sat down gently. She moaned a little at the shifting mattress. "Got'cha some stuff, ain't much but I thought ya might like it," he said. He dug into the bag. "Got'cha some books. Don't know if they any good, but I know ya like books an' it might give ya somethin' ta do in this cell," Daryl produced various books and put them on the other side of Carol. "Some of them is puzzle books," he said. "I brought ya some pens too so ya can do 'em." Daryl dug in the bag again. He came out with a few stuffed animals that he'd selected off the shelves. "Got'cha these too. They can keep ya company, or whatever y'all like 'em for. This one's real soft." Daryl arranged the various stuffed animals around Carol and sat one on her lap that looked like it was supposed to be a giraffe or something.

Carol fingered the giraffe a little and for a moment it looked like she might say something. When she didn't, though, Daryl sighed.

"I'm goin' ta see about gettin' ya somethin' ta eat," Daryl said.

He got up and left the cell, hoping she at least liked what he'd gotten for her to some degree.

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After Daryl had fed Carol her dinner and ate his own, he gathered up the plates and excused himself, knowing that Hershel was probably waiting on him. He went into the dining room and Maggie took the dirty plates from him. Hershel was sitting patiently in a chair in the corner waiting on him.

"You ready?" Hershel asked.

Daryl nodded and the old man got up. Daryl followed him outside the prison, a little panicked at the thought of what he was going to hear. He couldn't imagine what Hershel was going to say, and why it couldn't be said in front of everyone else.

Hershel was quiet until they'd started a little bit of their tour around the courtyard, only giving Daryl more time to create all the possible scenarios. He was ready for the man to spill what he had to say so that he could start sorting it out instead of worrying about it.

"She's gonna be alright, ain't she?" Daryl asked finally.

"I think so, Daryl, eventually anyway. From looking at them I have some ideas of what they've been through, but there's no way of knowing it all, and there's no way of knowing what it's done to either of them," Hershel said. He stopped near one of the fences, looking out toward the woods. Daryl stopped with him.

"Then what'cha need ta say ta me?" Daryl asked. If Carol was going to be alright then now he could only imagine that he'd done something wrong, but he didn't have any idea what it was.

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Hershel had gone over a few possible ways of telling Daryl that he may be a father. Unfortunately none of them seemed like really wonderful options, especially not in light of all the man was going through right now, and Hershel was unsure of how he was going to take the news.

He'd seen a marked change in Daryl since they'd gotten back with Beth and Carol, that much was true. It was obvious that Daryl cared for Carol, and it was also clear that now he didn't care who saw it. That was a dramatic difference from how he'd been before.

"Son," Hershel started, "there was something that Carol wanted to tell you, but she never got around to doing it. I'm partly to blame for that. I wanted her to know that it wasn't a good situation, but I forgot that Carol needs support a lot more than she needs criticism." He stopped for a moment. Daryl was watching him with some intensity. "She can handle the criticism part all by herself," he said. "I don't know if she _can_ tell you right now, or if she's even aware of it, I don't really know what's going on in her mind, but I do think you need to know."

Hershel decided then, looking at an expectant Daryl who obviously wasn't going to say anything but was nervously awaiting information, that it was best just to say it.

"Daryl," Hershel said, "Carol's pregnant. Now I don't know if the baby is going to make it or not, but just the fact that it made it through the ordeal that she's been through makes me think we've got a fighter on our hands. Whether it makes it or not, though, she's going to need your support."

Daryl didn't say anything, but he did look struck and confused.

"I know she wanted to tell you herself, but I don't know when she'll be able to do that now. I sent Michonne out today to get some things for her, things that might help the baby's chances," Hershel said.

Daryl was just staring at him now. Hershel suddenly worried that it might be too much for him at this moment, with everything else that was going on.

"Now I know it's a lot to take in, Daryl, but I thought you needed to know," Hershel said. "Do you want to talk about?"

Daryl shook his head.

"That all ya got ta say?" Daryl asked finally, his forehead still wrinkled.

"Just remember," Hershel said, "she needs you right now. You've got to be the strong one. I'm here to talk if you need someone."

Daryl nodded his head slightly, shifted his wait, and then immediately walked off. Hershel stood there a minute, hoping he'd done the right thing. He watched as Daryl continued pacing around the courtyard. He decided that maybe Daryl need that to help him wrap his mind around everything that was going on. He left the young man with his thoughts and went to seek out Michonne to make sure that she'd gotten everything he'd asked her for, deciding that he'd pay a visit to Carol and see if he could get a little more response from her.

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**AN: So here we go. Since you guys are so awesome I may even manage to get a third chapter out today, but there are no promises. I've got a lot to sort out before a third will be ready to post. **


	22. Chapter 22

**AN: So here we go, you motivated me and now we have three for the day. That's got to be some kind of record.**

My Caryl feels are on a high right now, but I don't think I've got anymore writing left in me for the night. I might toy with a future chapter, but I won't expect it to be even decent, less likely postable. There's only so much I can get out in a day!

I hope you enjoy, though.

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Rick finally stepped outside per Hershel's request. Hershel had gathered them together, telling them what was going on. No one really seemed to know how they should react to the news, and they certainly didn't know how Daryl was going to react. The light was failing now, and Hershel thought that Rick might want to go and see if he could get Daryl inside, or at least get him to talk about things a little.

When Rick spotted Daryl he was pacing around the courtyard. Rick watched him a minute. Daryl turned on his heel and started back in the opposite direction he had been walking, pacing along the fence line. From time to time he paused a moment and stabbed a Walker through the fence with his knife.

Rick walked toward him finally. When he got to him, he called out, causing Daryl to stop and look at him for a minute.

"Hershel told us," Rick offered. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Carol's pregnant," Daryl said. He took back to pacing and Rick fell in step beside him. "She's fuckin' pregnant! That's my fuckin' kid an' I didn't know nothin' 'bout it…"

Daryl stopped then and stabbed another Walker that was hanging at the fence. Rick just stood there, waiting to see what was left of Daryl's rant. When he'd found at that Lori was pregnant he'd been angry too. He'd been angry that she hadn't told him, angry at the uncertainty of it all. He'd been angry at the situation, and what it meant these days to have a baby. He didn't hold it against Daryl that he was going through his own anger right now.

"I ain't never had no kid, Rick," Daryl said, beginning to pace again, "and now I got one but Hershel's tellin' me I might not even get ta keep it…" He trailed off again.

"Sometimes that happens, Daryl," Rick finally offered. "Hershel just wants you to know it's possible, I think. He's just trying to prepare you in case that happens. Do you want the baby, Daryl?"

Daryl stopped and looked at him. Rick could see clearly on his face that Daryl was a mess of emotions right now. He clapped a hand on his shoulder, attempting to steady him a little.

"It's my fuckin' kid," Daryl said.

Rick nodded his head. He hadn't known what kind of response exactly he expected from Daryl, but that one seemed appropriate.

"Jesus, Rick! She's fuckin' pregnant an' look what that son of a bitch did ta her!" Daryl pulled loose from Rick's grasp on his shoulder and turned. He ran toward the fence and kicked it. "Son of a bitch!"

"She's back now, Daryl. She's going to get better," Rick said. He didn't know if he believed that entirely, but right now Daryl needed anything that was going to help him with the rage that was obviously built up inside him. "The Governor's dead, Daryl. He paid for all of this…"

"No he fuckin' didn't!" Daryl yelled, turning suddenly toward Rick. "He didn't fuckin' pay for none a' it! There's no damn way that anything that happened ta him even came _close_ ta makin' him pay for what he done! It was too damn good for him! Ya saw Andrea back at Woodbury, Rick, do ya think she would think he paid for it? Go in there an' look at Beth an' Carol, just go fuckin' _look_ at 'em! They ain't done a fuckin' thing ta that asshole, ask 'em if ya think he paid for it! Now I could lose my fuckin' kid that I don't even got yet because a' him! He ain't fuckin' paid for shit!"

Rick backed up a little.

"Ok, Daryl, you're right. He didn't _pay_ for it all, but he's dead. There's nothing that can be done to undo everything that he did. Now the only choice you've got is to move on and try to make things as good as they can be. You can't kill him again, but don't let that anger keep you from seeing what you do have right now," Rick offered. "Carol can get better. You can have that. The baby might make it, Daryl, especially if you take care of Carol. The Governor didn't take that away from you…" Rick paused, not really knowing what to say to Daryl. He felt like he was back at his job as a police officer. He was trying desperately to figure out what he could say to Daryl to calm him, to reason with him. "Just don't pull away now, Daryl, because if you pull away then the Governor didn't cost you anything, you'll have cost yourself."

Daryl did look like he was calming down a little, but he kept turning from Rick. Rick knew instinctively what it was. He hadn't spent as much time in Daryl's presence as he had not to know that Daryl wouldn't want him to see him get emotional, and if anything was going to drive Daryl over the side, this could very well be it.

"It's been a long day, Daryl," Rick said. "It's been a long couple of days. You just need to go inside and sleep on it. You don't even have to talk to Carol about it, not tonight, if you don't want to. Just go in and sleep on it. Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow. It's OK that you feel like you do right now, any one of us would in your situation."

Daryl didn't respond to him, but he did start toward the prison, walking slowly, with his head hung. Rick followed behind him, worried about his friend. This wasn't going to be easy and there was no reason to tell Daryl that it would be. He wasn't stupid and he wouldn't believe anyone anyway if they'd said it would be.

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As Daryl approached the cell he heard talking inside. He stopped and quietly leaned against the wall so that he could peak through the slash in the blanket without disturbing anyone. Michonne was sitting on the bed beside Carol, and she had laid out several items. She was holding them up, talking to Carol, and Carol was sitting there, not responding, but running her hand over some of the items. Daryl realized they were baby things. Pink and blue baby things. He leaned in a little trying to listen.

"And when you feel better," Michonne was saying in a low voice, "we'll take you there and you can get whatever you like. The town's pretty clear, it won't be hard at all. You can get more clothes and things…"

Daryl cleared his throat and Michonne's voice trailed off. He stepped through the curtain then and she looked at him. Carol looked at him too.

"Hershel asked me to sit with her," Michonne said.

Daryl nodded at her. She got up and started to collect up the items.

"Leave it," Daryl said. Carol had been caressing one of the blankets that was laid across her lap and Daryl wanted her to have them if she wanted them.

Michonne didn't say anything, she just left the things sprawled across Carol's lap and got up, quietly exiting the cell.

Daryl stood there for a minute, awkwardly looking at Carol and looking at the baby items. He walked over and sat down carefully on the bed. The table beside the bed was littered with bottles that hadn't been there before. Several of the bags that Michonne had wrestled inside earlier were now in the corner of the cell. Daryl reached over and fumbled with a few of the bottles. He had no idea what all this was, and he wasn't sure what was in all those bags.

In front of him on the bed were blankets. There were tiny little clothes too. Carol was caressing one of the blankets again, looking at it, but not looking at him.

"So ya wanna talk ta me now?" Daryl asked. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Carol looked at him for a moment and dropped her sight again. Daryl sighed. "Fine, woman. I reckon ya done with me, an' there ain't nothin' I can do about that, but that's my kid an' ya can't stop me from takin' care of ya 'til it gets here. Tomorrow ya gonna get ya ass up. I'll help ya. Ya gonna take a shower. We got hot water now an' you was all excited about us gettin' showers so ya ass is gonna take one. Then ya gonna put on some clean damn clothes. I don't care if ya wanna stay in the cell and rest, but ya at least gonna take a shower."

Carol looked at him then and he could see that she was quietly crying. He reached over and wiped at her face with his hand. He wanted to pull her to him but he was afraid that he was going to hurt her.

"Damn it, Carol. I _know_ ya can hear me an' I _know_ ya understand me. Why won't ya talk ta me? I ain't gonna hurt ya, I just want ya ta talk ta me," Daryl said.

The trickle of tears turned then into a full out sob. The tears rolled down her face and the sound of crying was interrupted at intervals by an almost whimpering noise that Daryl was sure was coming from the broken ribs. Daryl moved on the bed and gently pulled her head forward so that she was at least sobbing into his chest. He didn't dare to be put his arms around her, afraid of what he might do without meaning to.

After a moment, Carol wrapped her right arm around her, the sobbing slowing a little.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Daryl was struck for a moment that she was speaking but he didn't want to say anything and interrupt her in case she wanted to say more.

"I'm sorry…" she repeated. Daryl heard her repeat the phrase a few times and it made his chest hurt.

"Ya ain't got nothin' ta be sorry for," he said finally. He rubbed her back a little then, allowing her to keep sobbing. He wasn't sure exactly what he was supposed to do in this situation, but at least _something_ was happening, and he knew girls did a lot of crying, so maybe that's just what she needed to do right now.

Daryl felt like they'd been there a very long time when Carol finally stopped sobbing. She was still against him, her arm having dropped from around his back, and he realized that she had fallen asleep. He felt a little awkward then, supporting her against him, one hand on her back. He tried to ease her down onto the bed as best he could and as gently as he could. She stirred once he slid his arm out from under her, but she didn't wake entirely.

Daryl got up and decided not to move anything off of the bed that was there. If she wanted any of it when she woke up, he didn't want her to think that he'd taken it away. He slipped out of his clothes and blew out the lamp, crawling under his own blanket on his mattress. For a while he lie there, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness and tried to process everything.

It might just be tears and apologies for whatever it was that she was sorry for, but Carol was at least responding to him a little. There was that hope.

And on top of that, Carol was pregnant. Now that Daryl was thinking about it, and everything around him was quiet, the thought terrified him a little. He had never had kids. He hadn't really thought he ever would. He liked kids, other people's kids, but he wasn't sure what he would do with his own. He'd always been worried about having them. He was afraid that he'd be the same kind of father that his own father had been, and he didn't think that any kid deserved that just because he happened to be the man that made it. And now he had to face that worry head on, because if he got to keep it, it looked like he was going to have one.

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The next morning when Daryl woke up Carol was still sleeping. He got up and dressed as quietly as he could, slipping out of the cell and heading toward the dining area to get food. He ran into Hershel who was hobbling out of his cell.

"Did you talk to Carol?" Hershel asked.

Daryl made a face at him.

"Not exactly," he said. "She cried an' she kept tellin' me she was sorry 'bout somethin', but then she fell asleep."

Hershel smiled.

"That's good, Daryl," Hershel said.

"How's it good? The woman cried herself ta sleep," Daryl said.

"And she might do that a lot, but it means she's coming back to us, and that's a good thing. Beth hasn't cried yet, but she needs to. Sometimes crying isn't a bad thing, Daryl, sometimes it's the best thing that can happen," Hershel said. "Are you going to take her breakfast?"

"Yeah," Daryl said. "I told her she's gotta take a shower today, ya think that's OK?"

"Should be just fine, son. It'll be good for her. I can change her bandages when you're done," Hershel said. "I can send Michonne in there in a bit to tell you what all the bottles are for. She needs to take some of them every day. Some of the others I think are just things that Michonne picked up."

"Michonne, huh? She was in there talkin' ta Carol last night 'bout babies an' stuff. Ya reckon she's OK?" Daryl asked.

Hershel smiled again, hobbling on toward the dining room door.

"She's a woman, Daryl, and one we don't know a lot about. I think she's just fine," he said before disappearing inside.

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Daryl was just finishing his own breakfast when Michonne came into the cell. She greeted both of them and stood there a moment.

"Hershel said you didn't know what she needed to take," Michonne said finally.

"Ain't got a damn clue what all this shit is," Daryl said.

Carol wasn't talking, at least not yet, but her nature seemed a lot less timid than it had, and she'd insisted on feeding herself this morning, a change from Daryl having to feel like he was almost force feeding her.

Michonne started fumbling with bottles, telling Daryl what everything was for. His mind was swimming and he couldn't take it all in. Women sure needed a lot of stuff when they were growing babies. He hoped that Carol started talking to him again soon to keep all of it straight or he didn't think he was going to be able to handle this. Suddenly he wanted to just get up and go hunting.

He would have, but he'd told Carol that she was taking a shower, and he was going to be sure she did.

Daryl snapped out of his daydream and realized that Michonne was staring at him.

"Did you get that?" She asked.

Daryl shook his head. He wasn't going to lie. If any of this was important then he didn't want Carol not to take it just because he'd drifted off while Michonne was explaining it. Michonne sighed and looked at Carol.

"These…" she said moving three bottles to the side, "she needs to take every day, no matter what. The others she can just take if she needs them. They're for heartburn, this one," she picked up a bottle, "helps a little if she's nauseous, things like that. She might not need them but she'll be glad she has them if she does."

Daryl just stared at her. He really wasn't sure who the person in front of him was right this moment. It clearly wasn't Michonne, though it was her body. He felt like he was watching some kind of science fiction show or something. Maybe aliens had taken over.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Michonne asked finally.

"Ya alright?" He asked. "Ya don't seem like yourself right now."

Michonne sighed.

"I'm fine. I know what I liked having on hand when I was pregnant. I'm just trying to help," Michonne said. "Those three," she said pointing at the bottles she'd isolated, "every day."

"Got it," Daryl said finally. He was a little shocked to think that Michonne had children once. He didn't ask what had happened though, and she didn't offer. After he confirmed that he'd understood her instructions she ducked out of the cell.

As soon as she'd disappeared Daryl picked up the three bottles and screwed the tops off. He palmed a pill from each bottle and returned them to the table, making sure to keep them separate.

"Alright, Carol, you heard the woman, swallow these down," he said, offering her the three pills. She took them and obediently swallowed them with the bottle of water she had next to her.

Daryl moved the dishes to the side and started clearing the blanket so that he could help her take a shower. If he got her cleaned up he might be able to get in a little hunting while she took a nap or something. He liked the idea of getting out into the woods for a bit, especially if she wasn't going to talk to him.

"Time ta get up, woman," he growled. "I told ya that ya gonna take a shower. Let's get to it."

He got up and threw back the blanket.

"I'm just gonna wrap the blanket around ya," he said. Ya can get dressed after ya bathe. Ain't no need ta do it twice."

"Everyone's going to see," Carol protested.

Daryl's eyes darted toward her suddenly.

"See what?" He asked.

"You helping me…you helping me shower…everyone's going to see," Carol said. She looked worried.

"And what they gon' do?" Daryl asked. He sat down on the edge of the bed now. If Carol was talking he wasn't going to do anything to interrupt it.

"You're not worried that they're going to see it?" Carol asked. Daryl realized she looked like she was going to start crying again. He really was hoping to avoid another round of it if possible.

"Carol, there ain't much they ain't already seen," Daryl said. "Who the hell ya think has been takin' care a' ya? They done seen me feedin' ya an' washin' ya an' helpin' ya do everything else ya gotta do. How surprised you reckon they gon' be if they see me takin' ya ta the showers?"

"You really don't care?" Carol asked. A look crossed her face that Daryl hadn't seen before.

He chuckled a little. Once upon a time he would have cared. He would have cared a lot. Now, though, it seemed like he'd had so much else to care about that it just didn't seem that important anymore to think about if anyone wanted to say something to him about helping Carol take a shower.

"No, woman, I _don't_ care," Daryl said. "Right now all I care about is gettin' ya in them showers an' gettin' ya cleaned up. Reckon ya can help me with that?"

"I think so," Carol said after a moment.

"And don't'cha go leavin' me no more," Daryl said. He moved to help her up.

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Carol had cried again in the shower when she'd looked at her body and realized how bruised she was. Daryl had held her to him under the shower spray, letting her sob. It hurt him to see it too. There was hardly any place to be found that didn't bear some kind of mark and he shuddered to think what it had been like.

When she'd finally stopped crying Daryl lathered up a washcloth and started to wash her. The water carried away any bits of filth that he had missed before trying to wash her while she was lying down. As he ran the cloth over her, she started to cry again.

What was worse for Daryl at this moment, as he washed her back and down her legs, wasn't so much the fact that she was crying. He had resigned himself to the fact that she was probably going to be doing that a lot. What was terrible, though, was that she was in this condition and he'd become aroused now that he was bending down to wash her legs…and to wash in between them…and he felt like a pervert. He was afraid to let her turn around, he didn't want her to see it, but he couldn't make it go away.

_You're a damn pervert,_ he thought to himself. _Woman's cryin' an' shit an' you're turned on like a teenager 'cause she's naked! What the hell is wrong with you?_

Daryl lingered longer than he had to in this position, but finally he knew there was going to be no hiding his predicament. When Carol finally did turn around, it hadn't taken her long to trail her vision directly to what he'd been trying to hide.

"Christ," he growled. "I'm sorry."

Carol didn't say anything for a minute, she just stood there under the spray of the shower, looking at him.

"I know, I'm a fuckin' pervert, I'm sorry," he said again.

"No, Daryl, don't be sorry," Carol said finally. "I'm not mad…I'm surprised," she said.

"Why the hell ya surprised?" Daryl asked. He was frustrated now and trying very hard to hide it. He didn't want her to get scared and stop talking to him again, but he was uncomfortable.

"I just didn't think that after…" Carol stopped and she looked like she might start crying again. "I just didn't think you'd think of me like that anymore," she finished.

"You're wet an' soapy," Daryl said. "I can't help but think a' ya like that."

Daryl was surprised then when Carol stepped next to him, putting her head against his chest, wrapping her arm around him. He grew even more uncomfortable and cursed himself.

"We can't do anything…_ I_ can't do anything, not right now," Carol said, "but I'm here. If you want me to just stay here, you could take care of yourself, I won't go anywhere unless you want me to."

"Fuck," Daryl growled. "I can't do that shit in front of ya! Then I really would be a pervert."

Carol started sobbing again.

"I want you to," Carol said. "I want to know that you…that you still want me, and when I can do it for you, I will, I just don't think I can right now."

Daryl was thankful that he could feel himself relaxing. He was distracted enough now that the problem was taking care of itself, but now he had a whole other problem on his hands. Carol was going through something and he didn't know quite what to do about it. This wasn't exactly the kind of thing that he wanted to ask Hershel about either.

"Of course I still want ya," Daryl said. "I come after ya didn't I? I just can't do that in front of ya, I wouldn't feel right…"

Daryl tipped her face toward his and bent down to kiss her. It was the first time that she had kissed him since he'd found her. Her lips were chapped and rougher than he remembered, but the taste of her mouth was even better than he recalled.

"I was scared I lost ya," Daryl said when the kiss broke away. "All I could think was that I was sorry 'cause I was a pussy an' didn't tell ya that I loved ya before we left, an' then I got back an' you was gone. I'm sorry that I wasn't here when ya needed me ta be here."

Carol looked up at him, but she didn't say anything. He couldn't tell if she was crying or if there was just shower water running down her face.

"I knew you'd come," she said. "You always come."

Daryl expected her to say more, but she didn't. She finally just looked away from him. He reached around her and turned off the shower. He went for the towels he'd left on one of the benches and came back. He handed her one to hold for him while he gently toweled her off, intending to wrap her in the blanket again until they got back to the cell and he could help her dress.

"You're not mad?" Carol asked after he'd finished drying her and was busy toweling himself off.

"Mad about what?" Daryl asked.

"About…the baby," Carol asked.

Daryl stopped a moment. He wasn't mad about the baby. Of all the things that he'd been mad about in the past few days, it really hadn't occurred to him to be mad about the baby. He was mad at the Governor, he was mad that the baby might not be OK and that it might have been the Governor's fault, he had been mad that Carol wouldn't talk to him, but he wasn't mad about the baby. He wasn't sure what it was that he was supposed to be mad about it for.

"Nah, I ain't mad about it," he said. "Why would I be mad about it?"

"Mad because I'm pregnant, mad because I didn't tell you," Carol said.

Daryl looked at her. She looked like she _expected_ him to be mad, or like she expected him to suddenly realize now that he was mad and just hadn't known about it.

"I don't know much about bein' pregnant," Daryl said, "but I don't reckon that's all your fault, an' Hershel told me ya was gonna tell me…so no, I ain't mad. Ain't got nothin' ta be mad about."

Carol looked relieved, but she didn't say anything else. She sighed and Daryl realized that she also looked exhausted. He wrestled into his clothes and brought the blanket back over, wrapping her in it.

"Let's get'cha back ta the cell. Looks like ya might could use a rest an' Hershel's gotta get'cha patched up again," Daryl said. He started to lead her back to the cell.

"I love you," Carol said, almost in a whisper. Daryl felt his heart clench.

"Love ya too, woman," he said after a minute.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: Hello lovelies! **

**I've been trying to write a chapter for one of my other fics all day…well…honestly I've mostly been on Tumblr, but that's a different story.**

**I finally gave up trying to force that one and decided to indulge my Caryl feels again since they've been haunting me. **

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Daryl stood to the side, leaning against the cell wall while Hershel took care of Carol. The old man was delighted that she was speaking now and he kept welcoming her back. He asked her a bunch of questions, only half of which Daryl was really listening to. He was mostly just waiting for the man to confirm that she was fine. He was considering going hunting, but he wasn't going to leave until he knew that she would be OK for the hours that he'd be gone.

When Hershel had finally declared her "healing" but "stable" and left the cell, Daryl sat down on the bed next to her. Carol was leaned back against a couple of pillows that Daryl had scavenged for her, and she looked like she might be considering sleep.

"So you OK?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled a little.

"I'm fine, Daryl," she said.

Daryl knew she wasn't _fine_, but she wasn't going to tell him that, and he wasn't going to press her too much. At least right this minute she looked relaxed, and she was kind of smiling at him. That was a vast improvement over the tears.

"Baby OK?" He asked.

Carol sighed.

"I guess so," she said. "There's no cramping or bleeding or anything yet, so I guess it's fine." Carol was quiet for a minute and Daryl chewed at his thumb.

"When ya gon' look like ya pregnant?" He asked. He could tell that for some reason Carol didn't really seem like she wanted to talk about the baby, but he did want to talk about it.

"I don't know, Daryl," Carol said. "It'll be a while. The baby isn't big enough for me to show yet."

"How big is it?" Daryl asked.

Carol shrugged.

"I really don't know…about the size of a butterbean, I guess," she said. She was quiet for a minute and Daryl just sat there with her. He wanted to tell her that he needed to go hunting, but he wasn't ready to leave just yet. "Daryl," she started after a moment, "how is Beth?"

Daryl shrugged. The truth was that he didn't really know how Beth was. He got reports every now and again from Maggie or from Hershel, but he hadn't actually gone to see the girl. He knew she was still acting terrified, and she wasn't talking.

"Don't know," Daryl said. "I reckon she's still scared or somethin'. If ya feel up ta doin' it I could take ya ta see her later."

Carol nodded at him.

"You ain't scared no more, is ya?" Daryl asked.

"No, Daryl, I'm not _scared_ anymore…" Carol responded. Daryl decided she didn't look wholly convinced of her statement.

"Ya reckon ya could be alright if I was to go huntin' for a while? I could find someone ta sit with ya while I'm gone if ya want," Daryl said.

"I'll be fine," Carol said. "You need to go hunting and I understand that. I think I'm going to sleep a little. Just be careful, OK?"

"I'm always careful," Daryl said. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. He got up and took his bow. He ducked through the curtain and let Hershel know that he was going hunting and someone should check on Carol until he got back.

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Once he was in the woods Daryl realized how distracted he was. He'd been out there for a while and he hadn't seen a thing yet. That was partly because he hadn't really been looking with any real intention. He was more focused on sorting out some of his thoughts on Carol and the baby.

He thought to himself that if Merle were alive to see this, he'd really give him a hard time. Here he was fucking up an entire hunt because he couldn't quit thinking about a baby the size of a butterbean floating around inside Carol.

Daryl had never really been good at a whole lot in his life before all this happened. He'd fucked up most everything he'd ever tried to do. That was why the hell he'd ended up in most of the sorry situations he'd been in. He started most things he did with good intentions, but that never got him very far.

Now he just wondered how he'd do at being a father. It was hard for him to imagine that he'd be any good at it, but he didn't want to fuck it up like he had done with so many other things in the past. This was something that he wanted to actually do a good job at.

But it was hard right now to imagine it. The truth was that pregnant women always freaked him out a little bit. The whole idea of just having a kid floating around inside of you gave Daryl the willies. He'd never understood why people were always touchin' pregnant women's stomachs. The last damn thing he wanted to do was feel something moving around inside of someone.

But now Carol was pregnant. Now he couldn't imagine how he was going to feel about it knowing that it was his kid that was in there.

Daryl tried to turn his attention back to hunting. He wanted to bring something home to eat so that everyone wasn't disappointed by the lack of meat. His mind kept drifting, though, back to Carol and the butterbean.

He could understand why she didn't want to talk about what had happened with the Governor, and he was more than willing not to push her on that at all. He couldn't understand, though, why she seemed little reluctant to talk about the baby.

It also made him mad how negatively everyone was talking about the baby. He understood that there was a possibility that she could lose it. They had made that more than clear to him, but what bothered him was that he hadn't heard anyone, not even Carol, say anything positive about it. It was as though it wasn't so much a possibility that she would lose it as it was a guarantee, and they were just waiting to see when it would happen. It bothered Daryl because it hadn't been like that with Rick and Lori. When they'd told everyone that Lori was pregnant, that was just that. They were going to have a baby, and everyone started talking about finding a place for the baby to be born, started talking about things the baby needed. He didn't remember there being so many "ifs" attached to it then.

Daryl wondered if they all thought he'd fuck up at making babies too. Maybe his kid wouldn't make it. Ricks' kids, they made it, but his…well it just seemed like everyone thought it wouldn't.

The more Daryl thought about it, the more frustrated it made him. Finally he was determined to put it out of his mind. He didn't want to spend any more time dwelling on it right now and he had to focus if he was going to find something to take back in time for supper.

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Daryl brought the deer back to the prison and left it with Karen and Maggie who were supposed to be responsible for dinner. He normally would have cleaned it for them, but he had other things on his mind right now.

He went directly to the cell and walked in. Carol was asleep. He hesitated a moment, thinking he might just let her sleep, but then he decided that he had to talk to her. His mind had been racing the entire time he'd been out hunting and if he didn't talk to her now then he wouldn't get any rest.

He put down his crossbow and walked over to the bed, sitting down. Carol was propped up on the pillows, sleeping. Daryl watched her for a minute. She looked smaller when she was sleeping, and she was snoring lightly right now. He reached and took her hand, the only one he dared to move right now, that was laying on the blanket.

"Hey," he said, "hey wake up."

Carol stirred a little but didn't wake up.

"Carol, wake up a minute. I wanta talk ta ya," Daryl said.

Carol cracked her eyes open and looked at him. Her eye was looking better now. The swelling at least had gone down even if still looked like she was wearing some kind of purple mask over half her face.

"I wanta talk ta ya 'bout the butterbean," he said, still holding her hand in his. She slowly started to look like she was coming around.

"What?" She asked after a minute.

"The baby, Carol, I wanta talk about it," he said.

"What is it, Daryl?" Carol asked, finally starting to look like she was waking up a little.

"Is you sore about 'cause it's my kid?" Daryl asked.

"What, Daryl?" Carol asked, her forehead wrinkling.

"Am I gon' have ta ask ya everything twice? Is ya sore 'cause it's my kid? Is that why ya don't wanta talk about it none?" Daryl asked.

Carol shifted then and pulled herself more into a sitting position, wincing a little as she did.

"I'm not upset about the baby being yours," Carol said after a minute. "That's ridiculous, Daryl. I wouldn't want it to be anyone else's."

"So I'm thinkin' we should keep it, then," Daryl said.

"Daryl, it isn't as simple as that," Carol said. "There's a lot more to it than just deciding you _want_ a baby or don't want one. There's a lot that's out of our control completely. If I lose the baby it won't have anything to do with whether or not we wanted to keep it."

"That's fair enough," Daryl said, "but I don't like the way none a' ya is talkin' 'bout it an' I don't wanta hear it no more. Especially not from you."

"What do you mean?" Carol asked.

"I don't think it's good for it," Daryl said. "Everybody keeps sayin' how it might not make it, how ya might just lose it. It's like don't nobody wanta give it no chance, Carol. It might only be big as a butterbean, but it can't make it feel good knowin' that don't nobody even think it's gonna live. Even it's own Ma keeps talkin' 'bout it like it ain't good enough ta even get born. Hell I would think if I was the butterbean then I'd give up on even tryin' ta get born 'cause I'd figure didn't nobody want me around no way an' I weren't good enough for 'em."

Carol was smiling at him now. After a moment she actually tried to laugh, but barely got a little of it out before wincing at her broken ribs.

"Daryl," she said, still smiling, "the _butterbean_ can't _hear_ anything we say, at least not yet, and I'm fairly certain that it isn't capable of reasoning one way or the other."

Daryl stood up and paced around the small confines of the cell for a moment.

"I don't like it, ya hear? I just don't want'cha ta say it no more. That's our kid, Carol…_we_ made it. An' I know you're tough as nails, woman, an' you're it's Ma, an' I might be a royal fuck up but I ain't gonna just lay down an' die for no reason at all. I can't believe our kid is gonna just up an' give up," Daryl said.

"Fine, Daryl, if it bothers you that bad, I won't say it anymore," Carol said. "I guess I just don't want to get my hopes up, or yours. It could have a lot more to do with me than the baby if…well…"

"Don't think it so damn much neither, woman," Daryl said. "Can't be good for ya. Just answer me this once, do ya want it?"

Carol looked at him like she didn't know what to say. It was as if he'd just asked her the hardest question that he could. She sat there, looking conflicted for a moment and Daryl stood waiting her out.

"It's just a bad time," she said finally.

Daryl's stomach sunk. Here he was, just thinking he might like the idea of this baby, and now he wasn't sure that even Carol wanted it.

"Look around ya," Daryl said. "World's pretty much gone ta shit, Carol. Ain't not a damn one a' us got nothin' no more 'cept the people 'round us. I reckon it's the best it's gonna be. That butterbean's just another one a' those people. If ya want it, then be happy 'bout it. Gotta be happy when ya can."

Carol started crying suddenly and Daryl went over, not sure what to do. He didn't know if she was crying because of what he said, or if it was because of the baby, or if it was just another fit that she was going through that Hershel seemed to think were good things.

Daryl sat on the side of the bed and she inched her way closer to him. He moved in and she put her head on his chest. He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.

"I don't even know what I want, Daryl," she sobbed. "I didn't think you'd want it, and so I didn't want it. I didn't want you to be angry with me."

Daryl was struck. He continued rubbing her back. She had apparently really believed that he was going to be angry, and now he felt confused. This was the second time she'd acted like he was going to be mad with her and he didn't know why he was supposed to be mad. Maybe there was some kind of good reason to be mad about it and he just didn't know it.

"I ain't mad about it," Daryl said, finally. "So it's OK ta want it if ya do."

Carol's sobbing finally subsided, but she stayed where she was, leaning against Daryl.

"I'll stop saying it, Daryl, if that will make you feel better," she said finally. Daryl pulled away from her and kissed her gently on the lips. She returned the kiss. "I don't really know what I feel about it right now, but I'll stop saying it."

Daryl decided that was the best that he could ask for. Hershel had warned him that her feelings could be all over the place, so he thought that she might not be happy today, but she might be happy tomorrow, and he could live with that. At least for now she's stop being so negative about it.

"So you really want it?" Carol asked after a minute.

"Yeah," Daryl said. "I think I do."

Carol pulled him closer to her again and she rested against him. She sighed and he felt her root her face into his chest. He put his arm around her. He wanted desperately to hug her to him, but he knew what broken ribs felt like, and he wouldn't dare have squeezed her.

"Then we'll do the best we can," Carol said. "If you want the butterbean then we'll do whatever we can for you to have it."

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**AN: So there you go. Not long, but I lack as much juice as I seemed to have yesterday. I'm off to see if I can't finish up the chapter I started for my other fic now. **


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: OK, so I'm going to start by saying this one may not be great. I've got a lot of stuff to work through, and I worked on it for most of the day, but I'm still not 100% satisfied. **

**Still, it is what it is and every little step forward keeps the muse from escaping, so I hope you enjoy this little piece.**

**P.S. I don't know how sensitive everyone is, but there may be some disturbing parts in here with violence/reference to violence/domestic violence…so you've been warned. Nothing too graphic, though. Also, as you know, we've got a little work to be done in regard to Carol and her feelings on the butterbean so if anything circling around that bothers you then reader discretion is advised. **

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Daryl had left to go out on a hunt just after breakfast and Carol was sitting alone in the cell. Part of her thought that she should go out, see the others, like Daryl had suggested, but the other part of her just wanted to stay in their cell.

If anyone had asked Carol how she felt about anything right now, or why she felt that way, she thought she'd have a hard time explaining herself. The few days since she'd been back seemed like a blur to her. She was sore and stiff and tired.

She was almost afraid to go outside of the cell and see the others. Since she'd been back she'd only seen Hershel, Daryl, Maggie, and Michonne, and visits with anyone besides Daryl had been brief. She worried that if she went out there, they'd all just be looking at her, wondering what happened with the Governor, expecting her to say something about it, and she didn't want to talk about any of it.

How could she possibly tell anyone about being the most terrified she'd ever been in her life? And the worst part of it was that she was terrified by what she remembered, but she was even more terrified by what she knew she'd forgotten. There was so much that she just couldn't recall, and the not knowing was horrible.

_She remembered Alice. Alice was young, maybe in her thirties, but probably not. She'd said that she was there like Hank, because of their circumstances, and she'd talked about it all so calmly. How much of it had she seen to be able to talk about it so calmly? And Hank…she remembered him. She'd been especially terrified of him. Her new owner, or whatever he was to be, as though the Governor had instituted his own form of sexual servitude. And she was to belong to Hank when the Governor was done with her. She had never known what the Governor really wanted her for though, that was never clear. He'd told her that Rick, Daryl, Glenn, they were all dead. No one was coming for her, and she'd wanted to die too._

There was so much that she didn't remember, though. She wasn't sure that she wanted to remember it. She wanted to go and see Beth, but she was afraid of seeing her too. She knew the girl had suffered just as much as she had, if not worse, and for some reason she felt like that wasn't fair. Beth was so innocent, she hadn't deserved any of it. At least some of it wasn't new to Carol. Some of it had just been sickeningly familiar, but that wouldn't have been the case for Beth.

Carol shifted in the bunk and winced from moving her left arm when she hadn't intended to. She'd dislocated that shoulder once before…or rather Ed had dislocated it. It had been the one time that she'd told the doctors she had fallen down stairs and it had been the truth, or at least it had almost been the truth. She'd fallen, that much was true, she just left out the part about Ed shoving her just before the fall. She'd broken ribs too, though the two events had not been simultaneous.

Carol shook her head. She didn't want to be dwelling on this or thinking about it, but she couldn't help it. Daryl had brought her books, but she couldn't read them. Her eyes just glossed over the pages, never taking in any of the words. She knew he'd meant well by bringing her the books. She'd loved to read, but now it just seemed like her brain thought it was a useless pastime.

Daryl…that was another thing to think about. If Carol hadn't been in love with him before all this had happened it would have been impossible not to fall in love with him now. He took better care of her than even her own mother had. He seemed like an entirely different man in some ways. She would never have imagined that he wouldn't _care_ that everyone knew they were together, and wouldn't _care_ that everyone knew that he was taking care of her.

She loved him. That was the one thing she knew right now. She loved Daryl Dixon like she'd never loved another human being before. And she felt _loved_ by Daryl. It was a feeling that she found very foreign. In the past few days he treated her as though she was his most valued possession, and she didn't _mind_.

Ed had always called her "his". He'd always reminded her that she was "his" to do with what he pleased. She'd always felt so weakened by it. As though she was just something, some object to be had, like she wasn't her own person. She was simply something that Ed could use as he pleased. She'd hated every time he said those words of possession to her.

But it was different with Daryl. She didn't mind belonging to Daryl. And now she had something else that belonged to Daryl, something that he wanted. She knew he wanted it.

Carol sat up in the bed and picked up one of the blankets that Michonne had brought her. Daryl had put them on the bedside table that was loaded down with everything else they'd brought her. She ran the corner of the blanket between her fingers. She didn't know if she didn't want the baby, or if she'd just tried to make herself believe that she didn't want it. She'd tried to convince herself that if she didn't want the baby then it wasn't going to hurt at all if she lost it. She was going to feel happy about it, relieved.

But she knew that even that was a lie she was telling herself. She'd lost a baby about two years after Sophia was born. She remembered what it felt like. She had felt like she'd known the child, like it had really been hers, and she'd only been pregnant a few months. She hadn't even started to show, and still she'd felt like she'd lost something that was so very important to her, even though she'd never even known the little thing. It had been the single most heartbreaking event of her life, now it was second only to the moment when she'd seen Sophia come out of the barn on Hershel's farm.

And she'd considered it done then. She'd never be a mother again. That was a chapter of her life that was closed. And now she was pregnant.

The worst part was that she knew she wanted the baby, and she almost hated herself for that. When Alice had asked if she'd known she was pregnant, she'd been instantly terrified that she was going to find out she'd lost it. Carol could reason with herself enough to know that if she'd felt that way about it, it was because she didn't want to lose it.

But as much as she didn't want to lose it, she was terrified to have it. When Lori had announced her pregnancy to everyone, Carol had thought how horrifying it must be to be in that position. She'd thought about how worried Lori had to be, and now she knew what Lori might have been feeling. She was terrified beyond belief that she wasn't strong enough to handle it. There was so much that could go wrong at any minute. So much that could cost her the baby or even her own life.

Carol felt her chest tighten, and she buried her face in the blanket, the sobs that choked her without warning overtaking her.

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Carol was surprised when Michonne poked her head through the slit in the blanket.

"I'm going to walk the parameter," she said. "Want to come along? It's a pretty day."

Carol had just gotten control of herself and she was still making the occasional sniffling noises that embarrassed her because they were a clear sign that you'd been crying.

"No, I'm fine," Carol said. "I'd rather stay here."

"Come on," Michonne said. "It's just the parameter, and I'll keep the biting to a minimum."

"Really, I was going to take a nap," Carol said.

Michonne just stood there, looking at her.

Carol almost laughed at her. It was apparent the other woman was trying to make it clear that Carol had two options. She could either get up now and go take the walk, or she could sit there and be stared at until she gave in and went to take the walk. Finally Carol put the blanket she was holding on the bed and got up. She ran her fingers through her hair, combing out some of the tangles. She realized that she had no idea what she looked like. Daryl had steered her clear of any mirrors, and she hadn't even paid attention to the clothes he handed her to put on, not to mention the fact that she'd been crying.

"You look disgusting," Michonne said, apparently responding to Carol's hesitation, "just like the rest of us."

Carol sniffed again and, not being able to find any kind of handkerchief, resigned herself to wiping her face with her hands, sucking in her breath because she'd forgotten momentarily that essentially her face was one big bruise.

She followed Michonne through the prison, not seeing anyone else, and stepped out into the sunlight, blinded for a moment.

The sun felt good. When Carol's eyes adjusted to the brightness, she followed along with Michonne. They were walking slowly, ambling more than anything. Carol realized then how stiff she was, and she had to admit that it felt good to stretch her legs.

"I never said thank you," Carol said finally.

Michonne, who was a few steps in front of her, stopped and turned back.

"For the stuff you got me, I never said thank you," Carol said.

"Hershel told me to get it," Michonne responded.

Carol imagined that Hershel might have suggested that she pick up the vitamins, might have suggested she pick up the iron and the calcium supplements, but she imagined the other things had not been his suggestions. She'd already looked through the bags and one was stuffed with various baby items while the other was packed with clothes of various sizes.

"I didn't know you had a child," Carol said. She'd heard Michonne mention it to Daryl, and she didn't want to push too far into it, knowing that it could very well be a painful area, but for just a moment it felt good not to be thinking so much about her own situation.

Michonne continued walking for a minute and Carol thought that she might have hit a sore spot. She instantly regretted it, feeling a little insensitive when the woman hadn't pried into anything about her life.

"Children," Michonne said after a few minutes. "I had two girls."

Carol didn't push it any further.

"I had a daughter," she offered, after a second. It was more of a way of saying she understood the rest of the silence.

Michonne nodded.

"Andrea told me," Michonne said. "And now you've got this one."

Carol wasn't quite sure how to respond. Daryl had forbidden her to mention the fact that she might lose the baby. He'd told her not to even think it, but it was easier to control what she said than it was to control what she thought. Carol simply chose at this moment not to respond, and Michonne didn't say anything else. She tried, instead, to focus on the warmth of the sun contrasted against the feeling of the slight breeze that was being offered to them.

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Daryl came into the cell after his hunt and smiled at Carol. She was in bed and messing with one of the puzzle books that he had brought her.

"Got rabbits for supper, Carol," he said. He started rummaging through his drawer, coming out with a change of clothes. "Goin' ta take a shower, you should come too."

Carol put the book down that she'd been studying over and looked at him for a minute. She looked like she'd been crying and he didn't dare ask her why. Chances were she probably wouldn't know. She hadn't known before.

"We'll get cleaned up," he said. "Then ya think ya might want ta go eat supper? I'm sure everyone's achin' ta see ya."

Carol got up then and Daryl realized she was getting together a change of clothes.

"I don't know if I'm ready to go eat dinner yet, Daryl," she said.

Daryl frowned at her. He didn't want to be too pushy, but he thought she needed to start eating with the rest of the group again. It couldn't be good for her to be locked up in this cell the whole time.

"Ain't nobody gonna hurt ya," Daryl said. "I wouldn't let nobody hurt ya, but ya gotta come outta the cell, Carol. Ya can't just stay caged up."

When Carol had her clothes together she walked over to him and he turned to start out the door, headed in the direction of the showers.

"I went for a walk," she said, "with Michonne."

Daryl thought about it. A walk was good, it was better than nothing, and he felt like she was as safe with Michonne as she could be if he couldn't be around, but he still wanted her to come to supper. He wanted her to start getting back to normal. He thought that if he could convince her to start living her life again like she had before the Governor had come, then maybe she wouldn't cry so much, and maybe she'd start healing a little bit more.

"Walk's good, Carol," he said, "but I think ya oughta eat supper with everyone."

Daryl followed her into the showers and started to undress her.

"I can do it," she said.

"I want ta help ya, woman," Daryl said, not letting up on his activity.

"Daryl, do you think that we could eat dinner in our cell tonight?" Carol asked after a minute. "Maybe I can do breakfast with everyone, but I'd really rather just eat in the cell tonight."

Daryl regarded her a minute. Finally he decided he was fine with that. That would give him the chance, when he went to get their plates, to tell everyone that she was coming to breakfast and he didn't want to hear none of them asking her questions about the Governor and he didn't want to hear none of them saying nothing negative to her about the butterbean.

"Alright, Carol," he said. "That's fine if ya wanna eat in the cell tonight, but ya gonna eat breakfast with everyone tomorrow."

She sighed, but nodded her head.

After Daryl got her clothes off he turned on the water and she stepped under the stream. He quickly stripped his own clothes off and stepped in behind her. Carol backed up against him, leaning her head back into his chest. He looked down at her and her eyes were closed. She rubbed against him a little as though she were snuggling back into him and he cleared his throat.

"Can't be doin' that," he grunted. "Ya know what the hell ya do ta me an' we can't be doin' that, so ya can't rub on me."

Carol opened her eyes then, a smile briefly crossing her lips.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," she said. "Maybe soon I'll feel up to it."

Daryl shook his head.

"I ain't rushin' ya, just can't be rubbin' up on me like that," he said, reaching for the bar of soap.

Carol turned around and pulled his head down, kissing him. Her tongue found its way into his mouth and for a moment they stayed that way, each of them fighting the other for territory. When she broke away Daryl growled at her.

"Shit woman, see what'cha did?" He said.

He was surprised, then, when Carol reached down and grabbed him. She looked at him for a minute before she started stroking him.

"Ain't gotta do that," he stammered. He couldn't put much force behind the words, though, because part of him hoped she wouldn't stop. "Fuck," he growled, putting his hand out to steady himself on the wall behind her, ignoring the fact that he was nearly drowning because of the angle of the shower spray.

"I don't have to do it," Carol said softly, "but I want to."

When Daryl came and got his senses about him, he realized that he'd done it all over her. She didn't look bothered by it, though, she just turned herself under the water stream. Daryl leaned over and kissed her on the shoulder, tasting the familiar taste of own skin along with the water that was running over her.

"I love ya, woman," he said.

"I know, Daryl," Carol said, "and I love you too."


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: As always, thank you all so much for your lovely reviews. This one is a little shorter. It's also a little heavy so you may or may not want some chocolate or whatever it is that helps you with your Caryl feels. **

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Daryl stood back and watched Hershel prodding at Carol who was obediently answering his questions. It had been well over two weeks since they'd brought them back, Daryl wasn't really sure how long to be exact. Most of Carol's bruises had gone away now, the worst of them that remained were a sickening green color. She didn't complain about her shoulder anymore, but it was obvious that her ribs still bothered her.

"You're looking good, Carol," Hershel said, when he was done. "And I think we know who you have to thank for that." Hershel looked over at Daryl.

"He takes care of me," Carol said.

Daryl was trying to take care of her, but he felt useless most of the time. He didn't know how to help her with the nightmares she had, other than shaking her awake, and he had no idea what to do when she cried. That was the worst part of it because he felt like he couldn't fix anything. He was just helplessly there, hoping that it would pass.

"Do you mind if I steal him from you for a few minutes?" Hershel asked.

Carol shook her head and the old man wrestled up from his sitting position. Daryl put his arm out to catch him in case he should fall. With the extra mattress in there the cell was hard to navigate. Hershel hobbled out and Daryl followed him.

"Let's go for a walk, son," Hershel said.

Daryl quietly followed him outside.

"She OK?" Daryl asked as soon as the door closed behind them and they began to walk.

"Physically, she's doing remarkably well. She's not complaining much about the shoulder and her range of movement is good. Her ribs are healing but she's got a little way to go with that. Other than a little nausea, which is to be expected, she doesn't seem to be having any difficulty with the pregnancy…I'd say that she's about as good as she can be," Hershel said. "How is she mentally?"

Daryl thought about it. He didn't know how to answer that question. She was at least eating with the group now, though she spent most of her time in the cell. Sometimes he could get her to come outside with him and walk around, and Michonne had been pretty good at getting her to come out as well. She only talked about what had happened occasionally, and only after a nightmare.

"Don't know," Daryl said finally. "She has a lot of nightmares, an' I think she cries too much."

Hershel chuckled a little.

"Daryl, I can promise you that she doesn't cry _too much_," Hershel said. "I'm not worried about if she cries a lot. I'd be a lot more worried if she wasn't crying."

"Well then ya ain't got nothin' ta be worried about 'cause she cries all the damn time, an' I don't know how to stop it," Daryl said.

"Don't try to stop it," Hershel said. "Beth's crying now, and that's a good thing. She's not made the same kind of progress that Carol has, and I think that's because Beth doesn't have you around. You're doing everything right, son."

Daryl stopped. He had never in his life heard those words said to him. He had never been a person that did much of anything right, less likely to be told he was doing _everything_ right. Hershel stopped a second later and Daryl became aware of the fact that he had frozen.

"I ain't doin' nothin' special," Daryl said. He really didn't know what it was that he was doing right. He felt lost most of the time. "She won't even come out the cell half the time."

"You're keeping her from slipping into her grief entirely," Hershel said. "She's socializing a little more now, soon she'll be coming out even more. What's important, though, is that you've created that cell for her as a safe zone, somewhere where she _feels_ comfortable. Son, have you ever tried to help a wounded animal before?"

Daryl shook his head.

"Carol's a little like a wounded animal right now," Hershel said.

"She ain't no damn animal," Daryl shot back.

"Easy, son, I don't mean any harm in it. What I mean is that when you're trying to earn the trust of a wounded animal, trying to get them to be comfortable with you, the last thing you want to do is to move too quickly or make too much noise. If you do that, they'll either run away, or they'll bite you. It can take a very long time, but the more patient you are, the more they'll let you get a little closer, and a little closer, until finally you've earned their trust. Carol, and Beth too, need that patience. I know that you want her to be just like she was, and she may be one day, but you've got to let her get there on her own time," Hershel said.

Daryl sighed. Patience was not something he was good at, at least not all of the time, and he really did want Carol to be back to her old self. He wanted the pain gone, all of it, physical and mental. He wanted her back.

"Hershel," Daryl said after a moment, "do we get to keep the baby?"

"I don't know, Daryl," Hershel said. "I don't want to tell you yes and I don't want to tell you no because I could be wrong either way. A lot of things happen in life that we don't expect. I can tell you that right now it looks like her body is responding well to the pregnancy. It's early, though. I can only guess that she's maybe eight weeks, ten perhaps."

Daryl wanted to ask Hershel more questions, but he didn't quite know how to go about them. He didn't want to just out and ask him. He finally decided he was going to have to, though, if he wanted an answer.

"When do ya think we could…well…how long we need ta wait before…" Daryl started. Damn this wasn't easy and he felt his face burning.

Hershel chuckled.

"Daryl, are you trying to ask me when you can have sex?" Hershel asked.

Daryl wished he didn't look so damn amused. Now he almost didn't even want to know. He nodded.

"Give it a couple more weeks," Hershel said. "Give those ribs some more time to heal. After that, I'd say go with how Carol's feeling, but take it easy for a while."

"Anything else ya got ta tell me?" Daryl asked.

"No," Hershel said, "just remember, slow and easy, even when you get frustrated. Don't push her too hard. She's coming around, but she's got to do it at her own pace."

Daryl nodded and started back to the prison, Hershel hobbling off in the other direction, clearly not done with his walk yet.

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Carol was just starting to wonder how long they'd be gone when Daryl appeared at the cell door. She'd started to worry that there was something Hershel wasn't telling her. Daryl looked calm, though, so her fears were quickly erased.

"Everything OK?" She asked. Daryl just nodded. "Sit with me?" Daryl came over and sat down next to her.

Carol leaned over and brought her face to his, finding his mouth with her own. He returned the kiss, barely.

"I want to take a shower," she said when they broke away. "Take one with me?"

Daryl nodded.

"I can do that," he said.

When they got to the showers and stripped off, Carol knew exactly what she wanted. Daryl had barely touched her since she'd been back, and she knew he'd been afraid of hurting her, but she wanted him to touch her. She felt like she needed that contact with him, and she knew he needed it from her. When Daryl stepped in behind her she turned around and tipped in his head down, finding his mouth and battling his tongue with her own. He pulled away after a minute.

"Ya ribs gotta heal," he said.

"I know that," Carol said. She kissed him again and brought his hand to her breast, keeping hers over his so that he wouldn't try to pull away. "Just a little," she whispered. "I need this…I need you."

Daryl kissed her then, deeply, and squeezed her breast, the other hand going to the other breast. Carol panted.

"Are ya tits bigger?" Daryl asked when he pulled away from the kiss.

Carol giggled. She couldn't help it.

"Little bit," she said. "That's your butterbean causing that."

Daryl smiled a little at her.

"Kid's lookin' out for his old man," Daryl said.

Carol kissed him again and pulled one of his hands down to her core. He rubbed her for a moment and she rested her forehead against his chest.

"This what'cha want?" He asked. She nodded, moaning in response. He slipped a finger inside of her and she rubbed her face against him, wrapping her arms around him as he worked her. When she felt herself tensing up, though, the aching in her chest became overwhelming and it got difficult to breathe.

"Stop," she panted. "Stop…stop…"

Daryl did stop, holding his hands up as though he'd gotten caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Carol turned away from him, trying to get her breath, the aching in her ribs making it harder. She felt the tears coming then and tried to control the sobs.

She felt Daryl's hands on her back.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean ta hurt ya, I'm sorry."

Carol turned around.

"You didn't hurt me, Daryl. It's not your fault," she said.

"You cryin' 'cause ya hurt an' I did that," Daryl said.

"No, Daryl, I'm not crying because of my ribs, I'm not crying because of what you did," Carol sobbed. "I'm crying because I didn't want you to stop, but my stupid body wouldn't let you keep going, and there's nothing I can do about it."

Daryl had no idea what to do at this moment. None whatsoever. He'd been aroused, but any of that was gone. Carol was sobbing, and even though she said it wasn't his fault, he'd been the one that made her start crying.

"You didn't hurt me, Daryl. You didn't do anything wrong," she continued. Daryl backed up because now she'd begun to pace, and there really wasn't much room to pace in the shower stall. It was more like just turning around and around in circles. "You haven't ever hurt me. It was _him_ and I don't even know why and it isn't fair! It isn't _fair!_"

Carol screamed the last word at him and he backed up another step. He felt like he'd broken her or something and he wondered if he should get Hershel, even though she was in the shower.

"I know it ain't fair," Daryl said, trying to make his voice sound calmer than he felt right now.

"It isn't fair!" Carol yelled again. "I can't sleep and I want to sleep…but I can't because he's always there! He's always telling me that you died, and that you're not coming…and…and…I want you, but I can't have you…I can't even sleep with you because it hurts…and I don't want to hurt anymore…and I'm scared, Daryl. I'm so scared…I don't want to be scared. I don't want to hurt, and I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to not want my baby!"

Carol stopped pacing then, but the sobbing didn't let up. Daryl stepped forward then and gently wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She sunk into him, her body jerking with the sobs and he fought hard not to cry right along with her.

He rubbed her back and after a little while the crying slowed. The sobs were replaced by the occasional hiccupping sounds that she made.

"Feel better?" Daryl asked after a minute.

"A little," Carol said. He kept rubbing her back.

"I don't want'cha ta be scared no more, Carol, an' I don't want'cha ta hurt but I can't make it go away. I can tell ya that I ain't gon' let nothin' hurt ya," Daryl said. "I ain't lettin' nobody put their hands on ya no more an' if I could go back in time I would, but I can't. If ya think ya can get on the mattress on the floor I can sleep with ya there, at least then if I fall off I ain't got far ta go...I ain't goin' nowhere, Carol, an' if ya want ta want the baby then want it, I ain't gon' let no one take it away from ya if I can stop it."

Carol didn't respond, but she did sigh.

"How 'bout we skip the rest a' this shower an' we go back to the cell?" Daryl asked. "Ya can take a nap an' I'll stay with ya 'til it's suppertime."

Carol pulled away from him and nodded then. He reached around her and turned the water off. After they toweled off and got dressed he walked her back to the cell. She wasn't sobbing, but she did walk with her head down, shuffling along as though she were exhausted. When he saw Rick approaching them in the passageway, a look of concern on his face, Daryl held his hand up toward him, silencing him before he even asked if everything was OK.

When they got back to the cell, Daryl helped Carol ease down onto the mattress on the floor. He lie beside her and rubbed the side of her face.

"Are you comfortable?" Carol asked.

"Yeah," Daryl said, "you?" He had no intention of telling her that most of his body was off the mattress. That was something that just couldn't be avoided. These cots weren't built for two, especially when one person couldn't lie on their side.

"Yeah," Carol responded. She sighed a little and her hiccupping was calming.

"Just go ta sleep," Daryl said. "I ain't goin' nowhere. Ya gon' feel better after ya sleep."

Daryl waited until he heard her rhythmic breathing and then he eased himself off the floor. He slipped out of the cell going in search of blankets and pillows. He didn't mind his new sleeping position, not if it meant that she'd sleep better until they could both fit in the bed, but he was at least going to build up the padding.


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: So this one has limited Daryl/Carol interaction. I apologize in advance for that, but as I've said before it's a full group story and sometimes that's needed for plot development.**

**Also, I need to address a few little things. **

**1: I reread this…do you remember we had an OC named Tara? Yeah? I didn't either. She only existed for one paragraph. She's gone. I don't know what happened to her but maybe she got eaten by Walkers out there in imagination land. It was tragic. I didn't notice she was gone, you didn't notice she was gone, the entire group didn't notice she was gone…truly tragic. A moment of mourning b/c she's not coming back…sorry about that. She's wherever the busload of random people went.**

****

2. I'm somewhat OCing Carl and Rick. I just don't want to deal with Rick's crazy train and Carl's venturing to the dark side. I just don't want to do it, and we're all full up of crazy over here. So if they seem OOC, that's on purpose. Sorry if that bothers you.

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Daryl was pleased with the deer that he was cleaning. He'd had a harder time than he anticipated making it back to the prison with it, but now that he was cleaning it and imagining how happy everyone was going to be with so much meat, he had forgotten all about the extra effort. With the cool weather starting to settle in meat was more and scarcer and the deer had been a big score. They'd already discussed what to do for the winter, and given the opportunity, Daryl intended to trap some rabbits to help keep them fed.

At least for a little, though, they would have the deer. Everyone could eat well.

"Are you almost done with that thing?" Karen asked, walking up to Daryl. Daryl stopped what he was doing a moment, wiped his forehead with his arm and regarded her.

"That _thing_'s your supper, an' yeah, I'm 'bout done," Daryl said.

Karen complained. She complained a lot. Since Carol had been back she'd complained pretty much consistently that the brunt of the chores fell on her, Maggie, and Sasha. She was bitter that Beth and Carol were "excused" from their duties, and bitter that Michonne didn't offer assistance with the cooking and the laundry. Daryl tried, for the most part, to ignore her when he overheard her bitching and moaning, but he was always afraid that one day he was going to snap and, at the very least, give her an earful about the fact that she really had nothing to complain about.

Daryl was just finishing up with the deer, ignoring Karen's looming presence behind him, when he heard Glenn whistle and call his name. He lowered his knife again, turning to spot Glenn coming toward him.

"You might want to come check this out," Glenn called, shading his hands with his eyes. Daryl glanced around a moment, attempting to figure out what was going on. He saw Rick headed through the courtyard from one direction, and Michonne headed from another.

"What's goin' on?" He asked.

"People," Glenn said. "We've been watching them for a while from a distance. Looked like they were lost, but now it looks like they're heading in our direction."

Daryl didn't need to hear more. It was enough to know that there were people nearing the prison and that Michonne and Rick were already heading down to meet them. He picked up one of the rags he had nearby and wiped his knife, putting it back into his belt. He wiped at his hands, ignoring the fact that most of the blood wasn't gone in the slightest. He started toward the fences with Glenn on his heels.

"How many are there?" Daryl asked. He still couldn't see them, but the guard tower gave a much better view of things than the ground did, and he wasn't exactly sure what direction to be looking in.

"Tree it looks like, a man and two women. We haven't seen anyone else," Glenn said. He turned, heading back in the direction of the prison, leaving Daryl to continue his walk on his own.

As Daryl approached Rick and Michonne, both of which were standing near the gates they'd repaired since the Governor was kind enough to destroy them, were waiting. Rick had binoculars and was turning surveying the landscape.

"Can ya see anything?" Daryl called, walking up.

"Just Walkers," Michonne said.

"I can see them," Rick said. "It looks like one of the women is supporting the other. The man is busy with Walkers."

Daryl couldn't see them yet, but he could see that some of the interest of their fence dwelling Walkers had been turned, so he knew they were out there.

"What do we do?" Daryl asked. He looked at Rick.

"I guess we see what they want," Rick said. He looked uncomfortable and Daryl didn't have to ask why. The Governor had easily taught them that the Walkers weren't the only things to be afraid of these days.

As the small group approached Daryl took them in. The two women looked to be of equal build, but the brunette was attempting to support the blonde while carrying two packs. The man that was trying to fight Walkers on all sides of them looked like he might die of exhaustion at any given minute. Other than the crowbar he was using, Daryl couldn't tell that they were armed in any way, though he didn't think they could be dumb enough to be wandering around unarmed nor lucky enough to still be alive if that were the case.

"Can you help us?" The brunette called out as they got closer. Daryl cut his eyes at Rick. If they didn't help them, they were sentencing them to death by Walker in the following minutes. They'd just gained the interest of the rest of the fence Walkers and the man was too exhausted to keep them off. Rick nodded slightly at Daryl and Michonne wrestled the gate open that had once moved slowly but now was damaged and had pretty much no fluidity to its movements.

The three of them immediately went to work clearing the way to the gates for the three strangers who got inside as quickly as possible. As soon as they were in, Daryl held the three with his crossbow while Rick and Michonne struggled to get the gate back into place and secure.

Daryl kept his crossbow aimed at the brunette. She'd dropped the packs she was carrying, and the woman she was assisting was slumped on the ground. The man also looked to be of no concern right now. He'd dropped his crowbar and was on his hands and knees panting furiously.

"What the hell ya want?" Daryl spat at the brunette. Although her chest was heaving, she still held to her feet.

She was quiet for a moment other than the gasping for breath and Daryl waited her out. He was aware that Rick and Michonne had joined him now.

"I know you…I know you…" the brunette panted. Daryl realized she wasn't looking at him, her eyes were on Michonne. "Oh God…"

Daryl turned his focus away for a moment. He didn't feel that the woman who could barely breathe was any kind of great threat. She wasn't going to get any back up from her companions at the moment and he doubted she had the capability to overtake even one of them at this moment, less likely all three of them.

"You know her?" He asked Michonne.

Michonne looked at him wide eyed and shook her head, not saying anything.

"She says she don't know ya," he said regarding the brunette again.

"I know you," the woman panted again. "She…Jesus…" the woman put her hands on her knees, still gasping.

"Just take a minute," Rick said finally. "Get your breath, then tell us how you know her."

The brunette floundered about for a minute in such a way that Daryl almost thought it was amusing. Finally she stood up, her breath evening out.

"She killed the Governor," the brunette said. "I saw her…hacked him up into little bitty pieces…"

Daryl immediately raised his crossbow and Michonne's katana appeared in her hands.

"Oh shit!" The brunette said. "Don't kill me!"

"How the hell did you see her an' she ain't seen you?" Daryl asked.

Now the brunette was looking at him with a very confused look on her face.

"Why the fuck do you think I would approach the last samurai when they're busy hacking someone to death? I'm _really_ trying _not_ to die," she said.

"What the hell was you doin' with the Governor?" Daryl asked.

The brunette stood there another minute, not speaking.

"OK, listen. I'll answer all your questions…hell I could tap dance for you if you like, but my friend is hurt and she's losing blood. Is there any way that you could get me some water? Let me bandage her up? Maybe get something to drink for Hank before he dies too?" The woman asked.

"We'll take you inside, but you're staying away from our people. You're going to answer our questions, patch up your friend, and then you have to get going," Rick said.

"Awesome," the brunette responded. She walked around and loaded one of the bags on her back. She started to heave up her friend. "A little help here? Nope? OK then…" she said, looking for a second at the three of them.

Daryl, Rick, and Michonne all exchanged glances. Michonne put her katana away and Rick went to gather up the blonde who was currently unresponsive.

"She ain't bit is she?" Daryl asked. Rick walked ahead, the brunette and the older man following after, just in front of him. Michonne was bringing up the rear.

"Nope, just clumsy as fuck," the brunette responded. "Can't seem to catch a fucking break these days. Still got that thing pointed at my head?"

"Just don't make any sudden moves or ya gonna find out," Daryl growled.

"Awesome, just checking. I love pressure, makes you really feel alive," she sassed back.

"Boy ain't ya one big smart ass?" Daryl growled. Ahead of them those that were gathered outside of the group were beginning to move out of their way, though they hadn't stopped watching them.

"And you're a real sweet guy yourself," she sassed. "Are you gonna shoot me for being a smart ass?"

"Might," Daryl responded. He did still have his crossbow raised, but he really had no intent of shooting the woman. Neither she nor the man looked like they had any intention of doing anything. Maybe they really did just want to patch their friend up and get back on the road.

"Get supper started," Daryl barked at Karen, noticing everyone gawking at the unexplained parade.

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Once the new people were locked in one of the holding areas they brought some water and rags. Hershel hobbled in with Rick, Daryl, and Michonne. The brunette thanked them for the water, rummaged in her bag, and came up later with several items. She cleaned a pretty large gash on the blonde's thigh.

The man, having accepted some of the water to drink, but still having not spoken, dipped one of the rags in water and started rubbing the blonde's face.

"No need to do that," the brunette said. "Might as well leave her out until I get this sewed up."

"Do you need help with that?" Hershel asked.

"I think I got it," she said. "Wouldn't be my first sutures."

"Are you a doctor?" Hershel asked.

"Yeah…well…yes and no…I was a resident. I always said they'd keep us trapped, trying to feel like real doctors, until the end of the world," she chuckled, working steadily at the cut. "Wasn't the first time my sense of humor bit me in the ass."

"What were you doing with the Governor?" Rick asked.

"Ah yes, well that's really an interesting story. First off, let's be polite. My name is Alice, Dr. Alice Wilkins, to be exact. This man is Hank, and my clumsy friend here is Melodye. I was fortunate enough to be trapped in the very shit hole hospital I was doing my residency in whenever all this shit started going down. I got out of there with a handful of the less annoying people that I worked with and we dicked around, trying to figure out what these Biter things were, until we figured out our best bet was to be right back in some nice location like a hospital. So we found one. Cleaned out a portion of that, and we were doing OK, I mean not great, but you live in a prison, so you know what I mean…"

She paused a minute, but it was clear she intended to continue, she was simply focused for a moment. Daryl bit at his thumb nail and looked over at the others. _Everyone_ was sitting, waiting to hear the rest of Alice's story.

"Anywho…" she continued after a minute, "we got this great impromptu visit in the middle of the night one night. A small army basically breaking into our hospital. It was led by this guy who called himself the Governor. I know you're familiar with him. Charming man. Killed nearly everyone, wounded a few more, had some _great_ fun and games planned out for the rest of us. Took us back to this little community, you've been there, packed full of pod people. We got some options there…" She chuckled. She paused a moment, snipping the string from the stitches and putting a bandage over the wound. She dug around in the bag coming up with various other items, finally waking up the woman and offering her some pills to swallow. The woman came around groggily, but didn't seem concerned with where she was at the moment. "So our buddy the Governor said we could stay as long as we played nice. Unfortunately his original idea of playing nice was that Mel and I would end up being _hospitable_ with a couple of his guys. When we told him that we'd been together since we were in high school and didn't care much for his idea of playing house, he tried to make us. Apparently I got an F on my report card for having a snarly attitude. Needless to say, the guys weren't too enthusiastic…especially after I bit one of 'em's dick. Old Govy boy said then that he would kill us, and I didn't doubt he would, but I had a skill that he couldn't pass up. Luckily _my_ skill bought me an' Mel a pass."

"Is she a doctor too?" Hershel asked.

Alice shook her head.

"No, Mel was a therapist. Me and a coworker, who the Governor relieved of his head, went back to my place near the hospital and got her when the shit hit the fan," Alice said. She took the bottle of water that Hank had been drinking from and took a swallow of it, sitting down on the bench next to the table where the woman was lying.

"And who's the man?" Rick asked.

"I'll let Hank tell his story," Alice said. "Wouldn't want to be greedy."

"There isn't much to tell," the man started. "I worked construction and landscaping most of my life. I had a wife, Sue, but passed not long after this whole epidemic started. She got bit, got the fever. I think I've been with maybe five groups along the way. Came down from Tennessee. I met the Governor on accident. My last group stumbled in on the community. It looked like a good deal, something we'd all been hoping for. I hadn't been there for about a week before the Governor told me that he wanted to recruit me. It was mandatory for all non-family men in the group, as he called it. At first I thought it was legit. I mean we had a nice little place, it seemed likely that it needed to be protected. Then I got my first assignment. We were going to attack another group, one the Governor said was threatening us. He said we'd get them before they got to us, losing less innocent people that way. So I went along, except when we attacked it just didn't seem right to me. He took a bunch of people, and then when we got back he took me straight to some office that I'd never been in before in the back of the community. He told me that as one of his men, I had to keep my mouth shut about what had happened, or else I'd be disposed of. Then he told me I could go and pick out my payment. He had three women tied up in a room, asked me which one I wanted. He said I got last pick because I was new, but that the better you did, the earlier you got to pick. I was horrified, so I refused. When we went out on another attack, the same thing happened. Then I found out that he killed the women that didn't get picked…so the next time we went out and he took me back, I picked one of them. I figured I could at least save one of them, you know? But she had some accident. She was being questioned and had some kind of _accident_ and she died. He promised me first pick out of the next bunch that he got."

"And I have a chilling suspicion that _that's_ where the ninja comes in…and maybe the rest of you too, since you're with her," Alice said suddenly. "Were you the ones to break down the gates?"

"Nobody told ya ta ask questions," Daryl said.

"I just told you everything but my blood type, which is O negative by the way. All I'm asking is if you were the ones to break down the gates," Alice said, finishing off the water.

"Yeah," Daryl said, "we was the ones that knocked down the gates."

"So your group is the really dangerous group that he was raving about all the time," Alice said. "Which either means that he lied, or that you're not really going to let us leave…you're just going to let us finish telling you stories and then you're going to kill us."

"We're not dangerous unless we have to be," Rick said. "We didn't attack the Governor, he attacked us. He killed one of our group, tortured four more, tried to kill Michonne, and did far more structural damage to our home than we did by knocking down a couple of gates."

"I didn't say I blamed you," Alice said. "I just wondered if the women made it. Who was the one you picked, Hank? Carol? And the Barbie girl? You took them, right?"

Daryl shot up, raising his crossbow at the man who looked like he almost fell off the bench he was sitting on.

"What the fuck did you do to Carol?" Daryl yelled.

Hank looked at him, wide eyed.

"Nothing, I swear! I wasn't even involved in the whole thing! I didn't even know where they came from, but the Governor took me in there because I got first pick. I wasn't going to do anything to her even when I got her, just keep her alive. I'm not that kind of man," he stuttered.

"He's not, hot blood," Alice said. "Hank's a genuinely good guy. He hasn't even made the typical inappropriate comments to me and Mel that we get from most of the men, and we've been living in a house with him and four other people since the Governor got killed and the pod people ran away."

"So you never fuckin' put your hands on her?" Daryl asked, still not stepping back from his position, the crossbow directly in front of Hank's head.

"I mean, I _touched_ her," Hank said, "but not in a bad way."

"I let Hank sit with her while I had her," Alice said. "He checked her over a few times, looking at how badly she was hurt, rubbed her hands. He thought he was going to be taking care of this woman, possibly for the rest of his life, he didn't do anything to her that I didn't do trying to soothe her a little."

Daryl lowered his crossbow. He looked back at his comrades. No one had any clear expression on their face.

"So, hot head, was that your baby?" Alice asked.

"Don't fuckin' call me that, damn it woman!" Daryl spat.

"Oh, I'm sorry, _Mr. Personality_…we haven't been formally introduced. As I said, this is Hank and Mel and I'm Alice. Now in the old world you would have offered us your names, but you haven't," she responded.

"I'm Rick," Rick said finally. "That's Hershel, his daughter is Beth, the young girl. That's Michonne. And that's Daryl."

"And it's _still_ my baby," Daryl growled.

"So it made it? That's going to be one hard headed kid," Alice responded.

There was an awkward silence while everyone seemed to be regarding everyone else.

"We need to talk," Rick said finally. "You will be safe in here, we'll be back."

He stood up and everyone started out of the area.

"If you're going to leave us in here," Alice called, "can we at least have our bags? We're all a little hungry and one bottle of water really didn't do the trick."

"I'll have my son bring your bags," Rick called.

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Daryl excused himself for a moment, telling the others that he'd meet them in the common room to discuss what to do with their problem. He slipped back to his cell. He didn't want Carol to decide that today was the day she wanted to walk around the prison and come face to face with anyone.

When he got to the door of the cell he peaked through the slit in the blanket. Carol was sitting on the bed, wearing one of his shirts, surrounded by a pile of clothes and other things. He watched her for a minute, doing something with all the stuff that she had. He had no idea where it all had come from or what she was doing, but she was humming a little to herself and she looked very involved in whatever it was.

Daryl stuck his head in and Carol looked up, stopping her humming and freezing at what she was doing.

"Ya OK?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled at him.

"I'm fine," she said. "I thought I heard you yell something earlier, is everything OK?" She asked, looking worried.

"Everything's fine," Daryl said. "I want ya ta do me a favor, though, an' stay in here, OK?"

Now she looked really worried.

"What's wrong, Daryl? What's going on?" She asked, starting to shift out of her place on the bed.

Daryl stepped into the cell and held his hand out at her.

"Nothin's wrong, Carol. I just want'cha ta stay in here 'til I tell ya ta come out, OK? Keep doin' what'cha doin'. I ain't gon' be gone long. Ain't nothin' wrong an' ain't nothin' gonna bother ya, just keep doin' what'cha doin'," he said.

Carol settled back down but still looked worried. He hoped she'd get that look back on her face she had earlier once she resumed her activity. He almost wished he hadn't even disturbed her to tell her to stay in the cell. She'd looked almost happy, and that wasn't a look he got to see often. He didn't care what she was doing as long as she looked happy doing it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Daryl," she said finally. "Be careful."

"Ain't gotta be careful, Carol. Ain't nothin' goin' on, I promise. Just do what'cha was doin'. We gon' have us a big supper tonight. Got us a nice deer," Daryl said.

Carol nodded at him. He smiled and crossed the cell, leaning down to kiss her. She returned the kiss and looked a little lighter than she had before. He looked at the mess all over the bed for a moment and then turned and slipped back through the blanket.

They had to call a meeting together. He walked back toward the common area wondering what everyone was going to decide was the best thing to do in this situation. They had three very real possible problems locked in a holding area right now, one of which was singing, fairly loudly, "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall."

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**AN: As always, thank you all for all your love! If the muse holds strong I may manage to get another chapter out today. **


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: Wow, mixed bag of reviews already on the fate of our newcomers. We'll just have to see how things play out. **

**As always thank you for the love. Here's a little more to our tale.**

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"They wanna go, I say we just open the fuckin' door an' let 'em go," Daryl said.

"Now hold on a minute, Daryl," Hershel said, "she's a doctor, and that's not something we should just throw out the door lightly."

"We already got you," Daryl insisted.

"I'm just a vet. She could know a lot of things that I don't," Hershel said.

"An' Carol an' Beth? How ya reckon they gonna take it when some familiar faces come poppin' up? Jesus, Beth ain't even functionin' like a human right now an' Carol's got me so damn turned around that I can barely find my ass," Daryl said.

"So then we just let them go," Rick said. "It's not worth keeping them here if it's going to make Carol and Beth freak out."

"What if they come back?" Glenn asked. "How do we know they're not dangerous?"

"She's on 67 Bottles of Beer an' she's singin' it like she's a damn pirate," Daryl said, "I don't think she's gonna attack our whole damn group. That other girl's so thin Carl could snap 'er, an' the old man's bound ta have a heart attack if he has to run laps. I don't like 'em here, but I don't reckon' they no big threat ta have outside a' the gates."

"She said her friend was a therapist," Michonne said. "What _kind_ of therapist?"

"She didn't say that, did she," Hershel responded. "To be honest, I didn't pay it any attention."

"She said therapist," Michonne said, "just not what kind."

"If she's a mental therapist then we may have just hit a jackpot," Rick said.

"Or it's too good ta be true," Daryl said. "Do we even know if we fuckin' believe these people? That bitch is loony as hell, if'n her damn buddy's a therapist why ain't she fixed her?"

"The stories don't seem too contrived," Michonne offered. "There's not enough detail."

Everyone was looking at her now.

"When people are lying they tend to give far too much detail," Michonne said. "They think the more details they give, the more likely you are to _believe_ what they're telling you. Even good liars have a tendency to get wrapped up in their own details. I don't think they're lying."

"So find out what kind of therapist she is? And then what?" Rick asked. "Do we just ask them to stay here?"

"Even if we're going to just turn them out, that girl's going to need a few days for her leg to heal," Hershel said. "Otherwise we might as well just kill them here."

"So we let them stay a few days, locked in the holding cell, and then we figure out what to do with them?" Rick asked.

"I don't see any better options," Hershel said. "Beth won't come out of the cell at all. She's not likely to run into them. Carol seldom leaves the cell without supervision, so for a few days we keep her away from them. Then we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

The silence in the room made it clear that no one had anything to add, and no one had any real objections. It was a difficult subject.

"Fine, then we tell 'em they gon' stay put for a couple a' days," Daryl said.

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When Daryl and Rick got to the door of the holding cell, Alice sprung up. Hank sat on a bench, leaning against the wall, and Mel was lying on the table she'd been on earlier.

"So if you're going to kill us, do we get to pick how? Because I like quick, I'm all about quick," Alice started as they were turning the key in the lock. "If the samurai is going to do it, I at least want to be beheaded, I mean don't let her hack me up into pieces like she did the Governor, just one quick 'see ya head' kind of moment…"

"Jesus!" Daryl growled. "Do ya ever fuckin' stop talkin'?"

"No," Alice replied quickly, "so just imagine how fucking annoying I could be haunting the hell out of this place….and I'm going to haunt the fuck out of you and the samurai if you let her chop me up! I'm serious, middle of the night, nobody's sleeping."

They both stood there regarding her, sort of nervously moving around.

"Ya got too damn much energy," Daryl said.

"Ignore Al," the other woman said. It was the first time she'd spoken, and either she was drugged or she was much mellower than Alice. "That's her defense mechanism. She gets _very_ chatty when she's nervous or excited especially."

"I'm serious about the haunting," Alice said.

"Simmer the fuck down," Daryl responded. "We ain't fuckin' gonna kill ya, and the samurai's got a damn name. Her name is Michonne an' she don't make it a practice ta just go choppin' people up. That fucker deserved what he got."

Alice looked notably calmer for a moment, and she'd stopped fidgeting.

"I can agree to that," she said. "So if you're not going to kill us then you're going to let us go?"

"What kind of therapist are you?" Rick asked, turning his attention to the woman on the table.

"I worked with special needs children," Melodye responded. "Mostly in high functioning autism cases. Helped them work on basic goals for independence. Why?"

Rick nodded a moment, obviously thinking about something.

"Did that community have a name?" Rick asked after a second.

"Hell," Alice chirped. "I liked to think of it as Hell."

"First damn time I thought she was right," Daryl growled.

"The two women that were taken there," Rick said, "they're going through a lot mentally. Do you think that you could help them?"

"I could _try_," Melodye said. "I'm not going to lie. It's not my specialty, and I haven't had much practice, but I could _talk_ to them."

"Did they know ya?" Daryl asked.

Melodye shook her head.

"I never met them. I knew Al was taking care of your wife, but I never met them," Melodye responded.

Daryl jumped a little when the woman called Carol his wife, but he didn't correct her and Rick didn't say anything.

"Here's the deal," Rick said. "We're keeping you here for a couple of days. That'll give you time to heal. If your trial goes well, then we might consider letting you stay, provided that you want to stay, and provided that you can help us figure out a way that your presence won't traumatize them. Until then we'll make sure you're taken care of."

"And if Mel can't help them? You're really letting us go or are you just saying that?" Alice asked.

"We ain't fuckin' gonna kill ya, simmer the fuck down!" Daryl snapped.

"We're not going to kill you," Rick said in a calmer voice than the one that Daryl had chosen. "I'll get some mattresses moved in here for you, and you'll get dinner when the rest of us eat. You can have water when you need it and we'll see about getting you down to take showers if you want them. If you do anything out of line, though, we _will_ kill you."

"An' we'll let the samurai do it," Daryl said, turning his glance at Alice.

"What the fuck are we going to do?" Alice asked. "We're in jail and your son went through our bags…and by the way, he was far too interested in my underwear, I'm just sayin'…"

Rick chuckled.

"If you decide to leave, you'll get your weapons back," he said.

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Daryl was ready to get back to the cell. He was tired enough by the whole ordeal that he was thinking of suggesting that they just eat in the cell, and he thought it might make things easier anyway by not making Carol wonder why people were carrying plates of food away. He also didn't want Carol overhearing any noises from their not-so-quiet guests and wondering what was going on.

As he came into the cell he'd already decided he was going to breach the topic of Carol talking to that Melodye woman. He could tell her that they had someone new there, and that might help to mask any noises that Alice would make, as well as introduce the idea that she might be able to _help_ her. He was grasping at that hope.

When Daryl came into the cell Carol was no longer happily humming, surrounded by her mess. Her mess was gone, and she was sitting on the bed, sobbing into one of the pillows. The pile of stuff that she had earlier was folded and sorted and stacked in the corner between the bedside table and the cell wall.

"What's wrong with ya?" He asked, going over to the bed and sitting down. He reached out and pulled her to him. She reluctantly crawled to sit beside him and then suddenly got up, walking around the cell a little and then turning back to him.

"It's uncomfortable to button my pants," Carol said, wiping at her nose with the sleeve of his shirt that she was wearing. It was one of the winter shirts that he'd squirreled away. It was too big for him and on her it looked about as appropriate as the bed sheet might have. It was a button down shirt, but she didn't have it fully buttoned, opening it enough to show that her pants were unfastened.

Daryl tried not to chuckle, but it escaped him.

"Then don't button ya pants, woman," he said. "I kinda figured ya was gonna have ta wear bigger pants. The butterbean's gotta have some room. He ain't real big, but neither is you."

"You don't understand," Carol said. She wasn't sobbing now, but she was in the hiccupping stage that Daryl hated almost as much as the sobbing. He knew that he had to tread easily. In this stage she had only two directions to go, and one was back to sobbing while the other was calming down.

"What'cha need me ta understand?" He asked. "Ain'tcha got nothin' that fits?"

Carol gestured at the pile of clothes.

"Michonne brought me all of this," she said.

"An' nothin' fits?" Daryl asked. It looked like there was enough there to clothe the prison.

"Yes it fits," Carol said. She started sobbing again and Daryl decided he had chosen incorrectly. He didn't know what he was supposed to have said, but apparently he had not picked wisely. He really hoped that Melodye woman had some tricks up her sleeve. He'd keep the yappy one _just_ for her to fix this.

Daryl got up then and walked over, pulling Carol to him.

"Then what's the matter?" He asked. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her.

"I can't do this," she sobbed. "I can't keep it safe. I can't keep it safe now, and I can't keep it safe later."

Daryl felt a catch in his chest. His mind darted to Sophia. He couldn't really imagine this child, even though they told him that it was there. Carol didn't look any different to him. Her breasts were a little bigger, and that would be nice if he got to enjoy them more, and maybe her body was a little fuller, since the top buttons on the pants that had once sagged on her didn't quite meet now, but she didn't look _different_ to him. Not like Lori had looked before Lil' Asskicker was born, not like that at all. If anything Carol just looked like she'd gotten a few good meals that had landed in all the right places…all the right places that he couldn't enjoy the way he wanted to.

No, this child wasn't real to Daryl yet. It was just a baby the size of a butterbean that he might not get to keep. He didn't know how to keep it safe now other than to keep Carol safe, and he knew that from here out he'd guard _her_ with his life. So for now the butterbean was as safe as it could be.

He could remember Sophia, though. He could remember that even back then, even though he didn't know why, Carol's sobs had been a sound that he couldn't bear. The only thing he'd wanted was to find that little girl and put her safely back in Carol's arms. He'd felt like a failure almost when they'd found her. He had at least failed Carol. Now he'd failed her by letting her get like this, by letting that sick fuck get his hands on her. He didn't want to fail her anymore.

"We can't do nothin' alone no more, Carol. The world ain't a place where we can do that no more, but ya ain't gotta keep it safe alone," Daryl said. "I'm gonna help ya an' we gon' do alright. Right now ya just gotta grow it, an' we'll take care a' the rest later. An' if growin' it means ya pants don't fit, then it just means ya need bigger pants, ain't nothin' ta get all worked up about."

Carol squeezed him a little, her sobs letting up, but he didn't squeeze back. He just rubbed her back.

"We gonna eat in here tonight, OK?" He asked whenever she'd finally settled down. "I'm gonna go get us some supper an' we gonna eat in here."

"OK," she said.

Daryl finally pulled away from her. She looked up at him and he tipped his head down to kiss her, gently. She responded and her arms went around his back again, looping over his shoulders. He held the kiss, her sobbing into his mouth from time to time, until she finally pulled away from it. Daryl gently wiped under her eyes with his thumbs.

"We got someone here today," he said. "That's why I didn't want'cha ta come out 'til we'd talked to 'em. She's a real nice lady, Carol, kinda quiet. She was hurt, but she's patched up now. She's good at helpin' people an' she thinks she can help cheer ya up, make ya not so sad an' scared all the time, but she's gotta talk ta ya for that ta happen. Ya reckon tomorrow ya might let her talk ta ya, just a little? If ya don't like her she don't gotta talk ta ya no more."

Carol looked at him for a moment.

"Someone new is here?" She asked. "Is that what you yelled about?"

"I didn't mean ta yell," he said. "She ain't mean. I can stay with ya when ya meet her if ya want. Can ya just talk ta her? For me?"

Carol nodded.

"I can talk to her," she said.

Daryl smiled.

"Good girl," he said. "Now I'm gonna go get us somethin' ta eat. Just settle down an' I'll be right back."

Carol smiled at him a little and kissed him again. When they broke apart she went back to sit on the bed and he slipped through the curtain to get food for them.

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**AN: So there you go, a little more…I may or may not get a third out before I decide to call it quits tonight. I hope you're enjoying!**


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: OK, so I've got a lot of work to do, but have no fear, I'm slowly working away at the story. I do need to add a disclaimer, though, I have to do a lot of internet research, and I in no way claim to be an expert in anything that I'm writing about. The few things that I am an expert in would be pretty boring in a fanfic. I'm just doing my best to write an interesting little story to hopefully entertain you to some degree. Some suspension of disbelief is required and appreciated. **

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Melodye had sent Daryl out of the room. She said it might be easier to get Carol to really open up to her without having him in there. He'd helped her into the cell, he'd introduced the two, and he had waited until Carol assured him that she was fine with him leaving the cell. Now he was pacing around in the prison, trying to figure out what to do about the other two people that they had locked up.

Daryl passed by the holding cell. Hank was snoring from one of the mattresses and Alice was sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall. Daryl regarded her from a distance for a moment, then he finally approached the cell. Alice looked up at him from across the cell, but didn't say anything. She'd apparently talked herself out for a while.

"What happened to 'em?" Daryl asked. He bit at his thumb.

Alice regarded him.

"Don't act like ya can't fuckin' speak, ya ain't shut ya damn mouth since we pulled ya through the gates," he growled. "If ya fuckin' know, tell me what happened to 'em."

Daryl unlocked the cell and went in. He sat down, facing Alice.

"I can't tell you what happened to them," Alice said. "I wasn't there. The best fucking thing about the end of the world is that I've spent most of it being a fucking prisoner. At least now I upgraded to a cell, so it's fitting."

"Ya said ya treated 'em," Daryl said.

"I did, but I didn't see what was happening to them. Your wife had some pretty gnarly head trauma, and so did the other one when I saw her. I only saw her for a few minutes, though, she never came to. I didn't _ask_ what they did to the people they brought to me. I overheard enough of them talking about it and it made me sick," she said.

Alice stood up and Daryl shifted his position. She turned around toward the wall and pulled her shirt up. From across the room Daryl could see that her back was striped with what Daryl knew to be lash marks. They were healed, but still fairly fresh scars.

"This is what the fucker gave me for nearly biting his buddy's dick off. Pretty sweet ass, am I right?" Alice said. She put her shirt down and turned around. "So no, I don't know exactly what happened, and I really don't want to know. I sleep better never quite being sure how fucked up that man was."

Daryl didn't know what to say. He turned when he heard the cell door open. Maggie, Rick, Glenn, and Michonne appeared. Rick was helping Melodye. When she was seated, everyone else seemed to get comfortable.

"Where's Carol?" Daryl asked.

"She's in the cell," Melodye responded. "She's resting."

"Is she OK?" Daryl asked, "I mean can ya fix it?"

Melodye sighed.

"OK is not necessarily the word I would use. I am in over my head here, way in over my head," Melodye said.

"How far in over your head?" Rick asked.

"Like I told you I knew something about cars meaning I could change the oil and you just gave me a car in a cardboard box and told me to put it together," Melodye said.

"That's in over your head, alright," Glenn said.

"And Beth's worse," Maggie said.

"One hurdle at a time, please," Melodye responded.

"So what we need ta do?" Daryl asked.

"Al, how sure could you be that her baby's OK if you examined her?" Melodye asked.

Alice inhaled and blew the air out in a puff.

"OK like alive? Or OK like no genetic issues?" Alice asked.

"OK as in she's more worried about the baby than she is about the fact that she was kidnapped and tortured," Melodye said. "I think that someone telling her that it's OK could take some of the stress away. She's got it in her head that she's going to lose it, she just doesn't know _when_."

"I could look at her," Alice said. "I mean the first rule of medicine is you make no promises. I imagine, though, that she's _not_ going to lose it if she didn't lose it after I saw her last."

"Ya really think she's gon' let'cha touch her?" Daryl asked. "She don't even know ya here."

"That's the next issue," Melodye said. "Can I have something to drink?"

"I'll get you some water," Maggie said. She left the cell.

"She remembers only two people besides the Governor, and that's Hank and Alice. The good news is that she doesn't remember Alice necessarily in a bad way, just creepy…Hank, that's another story," Melodye said.

"So here's a novel idea," Alice said, "why don't we just tell her I'm here? I could go talk to her, let her freak out for a second, she'll see that I'm not going to hurt her, and _maybe_ she'll let me look at her. I mean how is she physically? Was anything broken?"

"She, uh, had some broken ribs," Rick said.

"Dislocated her shoulder," Daryl said.

"What is she taking?" Alice asked.

Daryl shrugged and looked at Michonne.

"Stuff outta some bottles she gave me," Daryl said signaling toward her.

"Wait are you a doctor too?" Alice asked.

"Not a doctor," Michonne said. "She's taking vitamins, calcium, iron…things for the baby."

"OK," Alice said. "What is she taking for pain?"

"Nothin'," Daryl said. "Hershel gave her somethin' the first couple a' days she was back, but now she ain't takin' nothin' but the stuff Michonne gave her."

"No fucking wonder she's going nuts!" Alice said. "What about the other one? What happened to her?"

"A couple of broken ribs," Maggie said. "Some pretty bad cuts on her back, probably lashes, her wrist was pretty swollen, but it didn't look broken. Her nose was broken."

"And is she just chilling out without pain meds too?" Alice asked.

"No, I mean she's taking some aspirin, but that's all we have," Maggie said.

Alice got up and started rummaging around in one of the bags that they had. After a minute she crossed the room holding two bottles.

"Here," she said, giving a bottle to Daryl. "Give her one of these, tell her it won't hurt the baby, but only give them to her when I tell you it's alright. They're not too strong, but after all this she's probably going to feel like she's in fucking Disneyland just from the relief." She handed another bottle to Maggie. "Give the little one this, just one for now, it'll make her loopy as hell probably, but she'll feel a lot damn better. If you ever decide to let me outta this fuckin' cage I can look at her, she doesn't know me."

"Thanks," Maggie said, accepting the bottle.

"I think you need to look at both of them, but ultimately it's up to Carol in her case. I haven't talked to the other one yet," Melodye said.

"So let's get this show on the road," Alice said. "Take me to her."

"No," Melodye said quickly. "Bring her here. She's still haunted by being taken. She says she feels safe in her cell. If you show up there, then it might wreck that. Bring her outside of her safe zone, let her come here to see you. Then at least if she freaks out she's still got what security she's built."

"I'm never getting out of here, am I?" Alice said. "I'm never fucking getting out of here! Tell ya what, how about we don't even tell her I'm here, you can keep the drugs, good luck to all of you, and we'll fucking hit the road like Willie Nelson?" She started to pace around the cell.

Daryl turned the bottle over in his hands.

"Why don't'cha just simmer the fuck down for a minute," Daryl said. "I'm gonna bring her down here. Everyone just clear out. She don't need all a' ya watchin' her."

The group started to file out of the cell and Daryl followed.

"Michonne," he said, just as he stepped out. She turned. "Will ya stay here? Carol trusts ya an' if ya in there with 'em might make her feel better."

Michonne shrugged and passed back into the cell. Daryl closed the door and headed to his own cell.

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Carol was asleep when he came into the cell. Daryl stood there a few minutes, wondering exactly how he was going to go about this. While he was standing there, Carol opened her eyes.

"There you are," she said, smiling at him. "I wondered when you were coming back."

"I thought ya was sleepin'," Daryl said.

"Not really," Carol said, "just resting a little."

"Did'ja like talkin' ta that Mel girl?" Daryl asked.

Carol sat up. She was wearing the same clothes she had on the day before and Daryl realized that he needed to convince her to take a shower soon.

"She seems nice," Carol said. "I've never talked to a therapist before, I hope I didn't say anything wrong."

"I don't think ya can say nothin' wrong, Carol, not if ya talkin' 'bout how ya feel," Daryl said. He paused a minute. "Listen, Carol, there's somethin' I gotta talk ta ya about."

"What is it? What's wrong?" Carol asked.

"Now don't panic, ain't nothin' really wrong, Carol," Daryl said. "When that Mel girl showed up yesterday she weren't alone. She come with two other people. One of 'em's a doctor an' the other is an old man…"

"So, Daryl? Did something happen?" Carol asked.

"No, we got 'em locked up in a holdin' cell while we figurin' out what kinda people they is. There's just one thing, Carol, you know 'em. An' I think ya need ta go down there with me an' talk ta 'em, but I ain't gon' let nobody touch ya without you wantin' 'em to," Daryl said.

"I know them?" Carol asked. She looked very confused.

"They're Alice an' Hank, Carol," Daryl said finally. He didn't know any way around it. Carol just sat there for a minute, and he tried to prepare himself for what might come later. "They seem alright, Carol, an' I just want ya ta go talk to 'em, I ain't gon' let 'em touch ya. Michonne's in there with 'em, an' she ain't gon' let 'em touch ya neither. Alice sent ya these," he held up the bottle and she looked at him, no real expression on her face just yet, "she said they can make ya ribs feel better, an' they ain't gonna hurt the baby."

Carol looked at him then like he was crazy. She put her hand over her stomach.

"I'm not taking _that_," Carol said. "She's crazy…and he…Daryl he wanted to _keep_ me!"

Suddenly she started sobbing. Daryl crossed the cell and put the bottle on the table. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her.

"If you hadn't come I don't know what he would have done to me," she sobbed. "I don't even know what if he _did_ anything to me. He wanted the baby, Daryl. _She_ told him about it and he wanted it. If you hadn't come…"

"Shhh," Daryl said. "I did come for ya, an' ain't nobody gettin' you or the baby. I'd kill 'em 'fore I let that happen. I just want'cha ta talk, Carol, an' if ya don't want 'em here, then we'll send 'em away, that's all. I swear on my life, woman, ain't nobody gonna hurt ya."

Carol finally wiped her eyes with the sleeves of the shirt. Daryl reached in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

"Here," he said offering it to her. "Gotta get'cha some clean ones, an' ya gotta take a shower later, change your clothes. Ya think ya can talk to 'em? I'm goin' with ya…"

Carol sighed and nodded after a moment. She got up and Daryl got up to. He wasn't really sure what to do or what she needed him to do, so he wrapped his arm around her, guiding her out of the cell.

Daryl steered her in the direction of the cell. He was grateful that the only person that was visible at first was Michonne, leaning against the door, looking out. She smiled at Carol, and Daryl realized it was the only time he'd ever seen Michonne smile.

"So you _did_ come," Michonne said. "I was starting to wonder if Daryl was going to come and let me back out of here."

"Shoulda known she was tough enough ta come down here," Daryl said. He squeezed Carol. She was just looking straight ahead. "Where are they?"

"Hiding in the corner," Michonne offered.

There was one part of the cell, because of the way it was situated, that wasn't visible until you actually reached the door. Daryl assumed that's what she meant.

"Mel thought it might be better if we do this slowly," Michonne said. "So you've seen me, and you know me."

"Yeah," Carol said. Daryl watched her and she actually smiled then. "I know you."

Michonne moved out of the door. Daryl kept Carol back a few feet. He figured the distance might help make some of the shock better. He had no idea how she was going to respond. Michonne came back a few minutes later, helping support a hobbling Melodye.

"And you know me, right? You know I'm not going to bite," the blonde said.

"Mmmhmm," Carol said, nodding. Daryl stood beside her, one arm on her back and he felt her tense a little.

"I want you to meet my partner of, well, of at least fifteen years," Melodye said.

"Sixteen," Alice's voice said from wherever she was hiding.

"_Sixteen_ years," Melodye corrected. "You already know her, but you might not _really_ know her. Come her, Al."

Alice came and stood beside Melodye then. Daryl didn't know what to expect. Carol stood there for a minute, as did Alice. Neither one of them spoke. Carol stepped forward a few steps.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say," Alice said finally. "I'm sorry if I scared you…you look good…I don't think I would have recognized you."

Carol was quiet. Daryl just watched the interaction.

"I heard your baby was OK," Alice said. "Quite the little badass." Alice smiled. "Did you take one of the pills that I sent you?"

Carol shook her head.

"It's OK, it's just prescription Tylenol. It's got a little more kick to it than Tylenol does, but it's fine for the baby…I mean don't eat 'em like Skittles or nothing, but every now and again isn't going to hurt," Alice said. "If you haven't taken anything in a while you might feel a little drowsy, but rest is good too. I'm glad your husband found you. I was rooting for you."

"Do you want to say anything to Alice?" Mel asked.

Carol stood there a minute.

"How did you get here?" She asked. Daryl was surprised a little by her question, but he wasn't going to interrupt.

"Ummm," Alice said, "by accident, really. I mean literally we ran here, walked, I drug her part of the way. We left when the Biters got overwhelming. There were four others with us, Biters got them, would have got us too if your friends hadn't opened the gates."

"Did you come after us?" Carol asked.

Alice shook her head.

"Didn't even know this was where you were," Alice said. "I knew someone had come, they'd knocked down the gates, killed the Governor. I only knew you were gone after that. I was one of the few alive that even knew you'd been there. We went to look for you, and you were gone, so I figured whoever had killed the Governor had taken you and the other girl."

When Carol didn't say anything else, Melodye started to speak again.

"And now I want you to meet a friend of ours. He's a nice guy, though I know you might not believe it right now. This is Hank," she said.

Alice moved out of the way and Hank came to the cell door. Carol backed up then and Daryl stepped to meet her. She wrapped her arms around him and put his back around her.

"It's OK," he said. "That door ain't goin' nowhere an' Michonne's in there."

"I…uh…I'm Hank," the man said. "I'm glad that you're alright, and they didn't hurt you too bad. You got your husband and uh…sounds like you're gonna have your baby."

Carol sunk deeper against Daryl. He wasn't quite sure what to do. He looked at Melodye, but she wasn't much help. She was watching to see what was going to happen too.

"Now listen here, Hank, we ain't lettin' ya outta that pen 'til she says ya can come outta there," Daryl said. "An' if she does say ya can come out ya gotta know that I don't give a damn what no Governor said, ya can't have her. She's mine an' I'll fuckin' kill ya if ya so much as look at her when she don't want ya ta do it."

The older man looked surprised.

"I wasn't…I didn't…" Hank stuttered. He looked at Melodye then.

"Carol," Melodye said, "Hank isn't going to hurt you. None of us are. I'd like to talk to you some more, and I think Alice might be able to help you with your baby, but no one wants to hurt anyone. We'll even be glad to leave, if that's what you want, but I'd at least advise you to let Alice check you. She's going to look over the other one before we go."

"I want to go back to the cell," Carol said, looking up at Daryl. She buried her face in his chest. She wasn't crying, but Daryl could feel her trembling. "Please, Daryl, I want to go back to the cell."

"Ya don't wanna say nothin' to 'em?" Daryl asked, rubbing her back.

Carol shook her head and rooted into him.

"At least take the pill," Alice said. "You will feel a lot better, and a happy Mama makes for a happy baby. I didn't finish my residency…I would have, but the end of the world kind of got in the way, but I _was_ a pretty big nerd. I promise you that it won't hurt your baby."

Carol looked back at the woman and then hugged Daryl again.

"Fine, Carol, if ya wanna go back, we can go back," Daryl said.

"Are you going to at least let me out?" Michonne called as they turned to start back toward the cell.

"Looks like your one of us canaries," Alice said.

Daryl tried to stifle the chuckle that rose up.

"I'll get someone ta get'cha outta there, just hold tight," he called back.

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**AN: So here you go, I hope you enjoyed it. It's actually been hard to get this much out because I'm working with so much that needs to be said/done/dealt with right now. I am already working on the next chapter and will have it to you as soon as possible.**

**With that said, thank you for your support. Let me know what you're thinking so far. **

**(And yes, we'll be getting some of Carol's perspective on things soon…and for those who have asked about Beth, I'm still working on how much we're really going to get from her…please bear with me.) **


	29. Chapter 29

By the time they got back to the cell, Carol had calmed down considerably. Daryl watched her as she went to the table, picking up the bottle he'd brought in. She picked it up, considered it, and ran her thumb over it. She opened the bottle, took out one of the pills, and then swallowed it, washing it down with some of the water that she'd been drinking earlier.

"Why don't we go get'cha a shower?" He asked. "Make ya feel real good an' clean. Besides, ya just about got that damn shirt crusty with snot."

Carol turned back and looked at him. She smiled a little at him.

"Fine," she said.

He got his clothes together and while she was getting hers he passed back by the cell to let Michonne out of her captivity, nobody having come for fear of interrupting anything that might be taking place. He watched as Michonne escorted Alice out with the intention of taking her to Beth.

"She took the pill," Daryl said.

Alice smiled.

"Then go keep an eye on her. It's probably going to make her at least a little lightheaded, you don't want her cracking her skull open," she said.

Daryl didn't say anything, but he did rush back to his cell, finding Carol waiting for him with both of their clothes piled up.

"Come on, woman, let's go get'cha clean so ya can sleep good," Daryl said.

Once they'd gotten to the showers, assured that no one else was using them, and stripped down, Carol started the water while Daryl got them a rag and some clean towels. After he put the towels on the bench he stepped in behind Carol who was standing under the spray, her face in the water.

"Ya alright?" He asked.

"Fine," she responded.

Daryl lathered the soap onto the rag and started washing her. For once she didn't insist in any way that she could do it and he was glad to not have to go through that ritual. He liked doing it. Their physical contact was minimal, and washing her at least let him have that.

"Are ya scared of 'em?" He asked as he worked. Carol sighed.

"Yes…and no," she said after a moment.

"The hell is that s'posed ta mean?" Daryl asked.

"They're not like I _remember_ them," Carol said, "but they _look_ like I remember them."

"So what'cha thinkin' 'bout all that?" Daryl asked.

"Alice…do you think she's crazy, Daryl?" Carol asked.

Daryl chuckled.

"Hell yeah I do, but I reckon we all a little crazy, ain't we? I mean I think she's a few clowns short of a circus, Carol, but I don't think she's dangerous. The Governor, he fucked her up a little, I reckon. Do you think she's crazy?" Daryl asked.

He was taking more than enough time to wash her, and he knew she knew it. He'd washed her legs twice already.

"I don't remember why I thought she was crazy," Carol said. "She was just so calm…but then I wasn't calm…so maybe I just imagined it." She yawned.

Daryl turned her around, washing her front. He stopped a moment as he was washing her tits…sweet Jesus…he wanted to grab them, to suck her nipples, but she didn't seem to even notice what he was doing, so he wasn't going to make any move on her. If he could get her back to the cell, get her to go to sleep, he could slip down here and take care of himself. Right now he had to hold it together. He couldn't go doing anything stupid. She had to feel like it was right or else he might fuck things up worse than they were.

"But ya scared a' Hank still?" He asked, trying to figure out still what to do about the newcomers. He wanted to put it out of his mind that he was washing the woman that he loved, the only woman he'd ever loved like this.

"I don't know," she said. She sighed again. "I don't know…I can just remember being so afraid when I found out he had claimed me, like I was just going to be his, and I didn't want him to touch me."

"He ain't gon' touch ya," Daryl said. He quickly went to washing himself. Carol looked tired. He could see it in her face. He wanted to get her back to the cell now. "I ain't lettin' nobody touch ya 'less ya want 'em to touch ya."

Daryl turned the water off and went for the towels. He toweled Carol off first, and then quickly turned to himself. She was standing there, her hand on the wall, watching him.

She smiled.

"So I'm yours, huh?" She asked.

Daryl smiled back at her.

"I reckon ya is," he said. "Hope ya ain't too damn disappointed."

He brought their clothes and helped her dress. She was sleepy, and he didn't want her to crack her head open like Alice had warned.

"Mmmm mmm…all yours…" Carol said.

Daryl wrestled into his clothes quickly.

"I think I'm gonna carry ya back, woman, ya don't look none too stable," Daryl said. Carol wrapped her arm around his neck as he scooped her up.

"Mmm'ai too heavy?" She drawled.

Daryl chuckled. He left their dirty clothes behind, hoping that whoever did the laundry these days would find them.

"Light as a feather," he said. "Feelin' better?" Carol snuggled into his chest.

"Mmm…yeah," she said. "Daryl…they think we're married."

Daryl thought about it. They did think they were married, even though they weren't. He knew that Glenn and Maggie were supposed to get married. Hershel was going to marry them whenever he got around to it. The kid had found her a ring and everything. Daryl had never imagined himself as the kind of man that would get married to anyone. He'd never imagined himself as the kind of man that any woman wanted to get married to. He couldn't imagine, though, that after Glenn and Maggie _got_ married that anything was really going to change. They already shared a cell together, and he knew that they weren't waiting for their wedding night to sleep together.

"What the hell does it mean ta be married?" Daryl asked. He wondered if Carol had fallen asleep or if she was still awake.

"S'posed to mean ya wanta be with someone forever," she slurred. She yawned before continuing. Daryl snickered.

"Well, fuck Carol, if that's all it means then I reckon we're 'bout as married as they come," Daryl said, easing through the doorway of their cell so as to not hit her on either side. He eased her down on the bed, realizing he'd never make it to the floor without dropping her, and she was just as likely to sleep fine on the bed right now. It wasn't even time to go to sleep, but that didn't seem to faze her at the moment and he didn't care. If she wanted to sleep, and she felt good, then it was just as good a time as any for her to sleep. "'Cause I ain't fuckin' goin' nowhere woman," he said. "Go ta sleep now, an' we'll talk about it when ya wake up."

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"Three hots and a cot, isn't that what they say?" Alice called out as Daryl neared the door. She and Melodye had pulled two of the mattresses together and they were lying on them, side by side. Alice leaned up as Daryl neared the door. He assumed that Hank was in the corner of the cell.

"Is she s'posed ta be sleepin' like that? Ya sure she's OK?" Daryl asked.

"You ever been in pain?" Alice asked. "Like the real 'Fuck me, and my life, and my grandmother' kind of pain?"

"I reckon so," Daryl said. He'd been in a lot of pain in his life, that much was for sure.

"And then you got relief and you were just like 'holy fucking Hell! I better take advantage of this shit!'?" Alice asked. "That's what the fuck she's feeling right now. It's probably the best sleep she's had in a while. I'd be more surprised if she wasn't sleeping."

Daryl stood there a moment.

"Did'ja look at Beth?" He asked.

"Physically, she's fine," Alice said. "I don't know about mentally, but I think she'll over that too. Can I ask you something? I mean while I have your attention?"

"What?" Daryl asked.

"Who got a hold of your wife before the Governor?" Alice asked.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"He worked her over, don't get me wrong," Alice said, "but I looked at her when I had her. There were a lot of old scars. Now see, I'd think it was you, being such a peach as you are, but you're too protective of her for that."

"Her husband," the blonde croaked. "Or her ex-husband, or whatever."

"Yeah," Daryl said after a second. "I ain't laid a hand on her, and I ain't gonna."

"You married?" Alice asked.

"Are you?" Daryl growled.

"Fair enough," Alice responded.

Daryl walked away then. Leaving the three locked in their cell.

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"Ya reckon ya might let 'er look at ya?" Daryl asked Carol while they finished breakfast in the cell. Carol was awake, and she was in probably the best mood that he'd seen her in so far. Despite the fact that she was wearing dingy grey sweatpants and an oversized shirt that he had no idea where they'd come from, he thought she looked as pretty as he'd ever seen her. Her eyes were sparkling, and that was something he hadn't see for a good long time. He'd insisted they eat breakfast in the cell just to keep her as happy as she'd been when she'd woken up and insisted that he let her "take care" of his morning problem.

"I don't know, Daryl," she said. "I mean I guess it couldn't hurt."

"Good," he said. "I'll go get 'er after ya eat ya breakfast."

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl brought Alice back to cell. She waited on him while he slipped inside and told Carol that she was there. Carol nodded at him and he let the woman into the cell.

"So, you decided to give me a chance?" Alice asked, sliding the bag off her shoulder. Daryl stepped in beside her and leaned against the wall to make sure that nothing happened.

Carol nodded at the woman.

"Dandy," Alice said. "OK…so…I just want to have a look at you first," she said. She dug around in her bag. "I really can't do much, just the basics. I grabbed what I'd need most before we left. The Biters didn't give us a whole lot of planning time."

Daryl watched as Alice examined Carol. Carol had seemed nervous at first, but as the examination went on with Alice talking to her as they went, she seemed to calm down. At one point Alice rocked back on her heels, having taken a position on the floor with Carol sitting on the bunk.

"Your blood pressure is through the roof," Alice said. "I'm not trying to scare you, but you're going to do a lot better if you can relax a little." She turned to Daryl. "Her ribs seem to be doing well. Still tender, but bones take their time." She got up then. "Alright, can I check out everything with the baby now?"

Daryl shot his eyes towards Carol. She sat there a moment and then nodded at Alice. Alice sat on the side of the bed and turned her attention to him.

"So, Big Papa, you gonna stay or leave the room?" She asked. Daryl was a little uncomfortable since she was looking at him, but he'd seen Hershel look Carol over before and he wasn't going to leave unless she wanted him to.

"I'm here," he growled.

"Good deal, gotta love a Daddy that's on board," Alice said. "Did'ja know that I helped deliver my sister's kid?"

"How the hell would I a' known that?" Daryl asked. He chewed at his nail.

"I did," she said. "Her OBGYN was this guy named Jacob. I went to high school with him. I slept with him when I was about fifteen. I thought that sleeping with him would make me not think so much about my best friend Mel. After the worst fucking sex that two people could ever fucking have, he looks at me and says 'Al, I don't think you were wrong, I think ya like Mel.' How's that for happily ever after?"

Daryl grunted at her.

"There we go," she said suddenly. "Come here, Papa, you want to know where the baby is hiding?"

Daryl looked at her. Though he was curious, it was terrifying to him and it freaked him out right now. He watched for a second as Carol trailed her hand to her stomach and Alice pressed it against it.

"I'm good," he said. He didn't want to go over there. It was weird enough thinking it was in there, and he certainly didn't feel like touching it right now.

"Suit yourself," Alice said. "There it is, though. Well, at least that's its bed."

"Its fuckin' bed?" Daryl asked.

"Well the baby's in her uterus," Alice said. "It's sort of like a big waterbed for the baby. I've got the top of it, if you want to feel it."

Daryl's curiosity finally got the best of him and he walked over. Alice took his hand, pressing his fingers just where hers were.

"Feel it?" She asked.

Daryl did feel something, but it didn't feel like a baby and it didn't feel like a butterbean. He pulled his hand loose.

"Nah, I ain't felt it," he said. He didn't want to admit his confusion at the whole thing when both of them looked so damn happy about it. He just wanted her to do what the fuck she was supposed to do and tell Carol that it was fine.

"Come on, Daryl, that's _your_ butterbean," Carol said suddenly. He glanced at her. She looked so happy right this minute. He had to fight it back not to just smile at her for the face she was wearing.

"Butterbean?" Alice asked.

"I told him that the baby was about the size of a butterbean when he found out about it," Carol said.

Alice smiled.

"Eh, butterbean, huh?" She said. "Well, that's cute, but this isn't a butterbean exactly. You're maybe eleven…could be twelve weeks along. You'd be winning some prizes at the County Fair if this is a butterbean."

Daryl was confused a little. He had no idea about the weeks, and he felt like it was too much for him to take in. He was concentrating on it as Alice continued whatever she was doing. He was only snapped out of it by the sound of Carol chuckling.

"It's OK, Daryl," she said. "It's still your butterbean. Babies grow."

"And growing is what we like, am I right?" Alice asked. "I can't give you any guarantees…I mean I'm good, but I'm not God…but I can tell you that this baby's got as good a chance as any, at least as far as I can tell. It's a trooper."

"So it's OK?" Daryl asked finally.

"Sure, it's fine," Alice said. "And she's a trooper too. I wouldn't have expected this, but I'm not worried about the baby." She turned her attention back to Carol who was dressing. "Just rest a little. You can take the Tylenol when you're hurting, just make sure you're hurting when you take it. Don't get too excited. Just try to rest and get that blood pressure down."

Daryl didn't know how to respond. Carol looked different to him, different than she had for a long time. She was getting dressed, and even though she wasn't looking at either of them there was a hint of a smile on her face.

Suddenly he wasn't sure how to respond. He had to walk the woman who was packing her bag back to her cell, but he hated to pull his crossbow on her as he'd done earlier since she had brought that look on Carol's face…but Carol was afraid of her companion, and he knew that people didn't like leaving their companions.

"Ya done?" He asked when she heaved her bag up.

"Something else I need to do?" She asked. She turned a minute toward Carol. "Good luck to you, I mean, if they let us go, I hope everything's fine."

Carol thanked her, warmly, getting up from the bunk and pausing a moment before she wrapped her arms around her. Daryl waited, unsure of what he should do. When the women separated he wasn't any surer, so he simply pushed Alice into the hallway. She headed the direction she was going.

"So it's back to the cage, huh?" She asked as they were walking along.

"You're the one goin' in that fuckin' direction," he growled, not knowing what to do. Rick was on watch and he didn't have him to discuss anything with.

"I'm not leaving without Mel," Alice said.

"Shut up an' get your ass goin'," Daryl growled. If it had been just her, or just her and the blonde, he might have regretted locking them back in the holding cell, but Carol didn't care for the man, though he'd shown no interest in any of them, and he wasn't letting them out until she wasn't afraid.

The brunette in front of him complied, slipping back into the cell. When he shut the door behind her she grasped the bars in her hands.

"If you're going to keep us here, like prisoners, you might as well go back to where we were. There were a lot of things there that I could use if I'm going to be your on call medic. A fetoscope I could get…I could check your baby's heartbeat later…one of the pod people was pregnant. I was prepared."

Daryl turned back toward her for a second. Her face was pressed against the bars.

"Generators, lots of them, unless you just like living like a boyscout," she said.

"Why didn't'cha bring any a' that with ya?" He asked.

"I consider myself one hell of a woman," Alice replied, "but I didn't know how many 500 pound generators it would take to slow me the fuck down. We didn't have time to find out."

Daryl considered it a minute. A run like that wasn't something to be taken lightly and he needed to discuss it with the rest of the group. They'd have to find a way to get the generators out of there, and it wasn't very likely that they could just carry them.

"Just simmer the fuck down," Daryl called as he walked away from the cell. "I'll talk ta the others, see if'n they wanta try ta go back.


	30. Chapter 30

**AN: There's no/not much Caryl here…sorry for that. It's coming.  
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**Real life is kicking in so I'll be pretty busy but I'll update when I can. Please forgive the less frequent updates. I did want to give you something.**

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Daryl was going hunting, and Carol had asked him to send Michonne for her before she started checking the parameters. She wanted to go for a walk as long as it was a nice enough day.

Carol rummaged a little in the pile of clothes that Michonne had brought her. There were a lot of nice things there, pretty things. A lot of it was unlike anything that Carol had ever worn before. Ed didn't like for her to have nice things.

There were some sundresses there. They were soft and made to be the kind that you could wear throughout your entire pregnancy. Carol felt a little silly, sitting on the edge of the bed in a t shirt, running her hand over the daisy yellow dress that she'd picked out. It seemed so strange to be excited about putting on a pretty, soft sundress. It didn't make any sense. It didn't matter what they wore, it was eventually going to end up tattered, disgusting, and stained by Walker mess at the very least. But for now, it was just a pretty dress, and there was no one to tell her that she looked stupid wearing it or that she was just an attention seeking whore.

Carol slipped the dress on a minute later, running her hand down the front of it. Stopping a moment where Alice had showed her the baby was. There wasn't any physical evidence it was in there, but she knew it was, and it was growing. One day she knew that she'd see the evidence there, beyond the little extra thickness she'd acquired that made her pants snug.

Carol realized it was the first morning that she'd woken up and hadn't wondered if today would be the day she had to go through losing it. It probably wasn't going anywhere. Alice had said it was healthy. And though the thought of _having_ the baby was terrifying, at the moment there was something comforting about the fact that at least, since the little thing was already there, it was healthy.

Carol was snapped out of her thoughts by the sounds of footsteps echoing in the corridor. Michonne had a distinct sound to her steps when she wasn't trying to be quiet, and by now Carol had learned to distinguish them from the others. She'd learned to distinguish the sound of most of them. She looked around, aware that the back on the dress was more revealing than she normally wore. Her shoulders were fine, as were her arms, but she never liked anything that showed much of her back. There were too many scars there, and she didn't have a mirror to verify whether or not the dress covered them. She grabbed up a sweater and pulled it on before Michonne could make it to the cell.

Michonne dipped her head into the cell.

"Daryl said you wanted to go for a walk," she said. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Carol responded. She started toward Michonne who had stepped fully into the cell now.

"So they fit?" Michonne asked. Carol knew immediately that she was talking about the clothes.

"Yeah, they all fit. Not much difference…but the dress is nice and my pants were too tight," Carol said. She didn't know what Michonne must think of her, standing there in a dress when it had become a thing of the past to wear dresses, but it _had_ been Michonne that had brought it for her.

"Loose is good," Michonne said. "I just grabbed whatever I could. I hope it's OK."

"They're all very nice," Carol said. "A lot nicer than what I've had before. We can go, if you're ready."

Michonne shifted her weight.

"Carol…it's nicer than it was outside, and the heat isn't stifling, but I don't think you'll need a sweater," Michonne said softly.

Carol knew that everyone thought she was a little crazy right now, or at least less than stable, and she knew that she wasn't in her right mind entirely because she confused herself with her feelings. She could tell by Michonne's tone that she thought the sweater might be part of that, like Carol hadn't even considered whether or not her attire was appropriate. It was stifling in the cell and she was already sweating. She wasn't crazy enough to know that she didn't need it for warmth.

Carol considered how she was going to handle it. Michonne, from what she knew of her, wasn't judgmental, or if she was, she kept her judgment to herself. Carol thought that maybe she would understand.

"The back is low in the dress, at least lower than I usually wear," Carol said. Michonne wrinkled her brow for a moment and Carol realized that for Michonne, who had only heard about Ed in passing, might not be as aware of Carol's life as someone else. If she'd told Daryl, he would have understood about the back of the dress making her uncomfortable. "I have scars on my back…I don't want everyone staring at them. I can't tell how much you can see them."

Michonne raised her eyebrows then in understanding.

"Take off the sweater," Michonne said. "Turn around, I'll tell you if you can see them."

Carol was uncomfortable. She usually tried to keep her body hidden from everyone, even when it was difficult because their living conditions required them to be around each other at almost all times. She took the sweater off, reluctantly, and hesitated a moment.

"I've seen scars, Carol," Michonne said softly. "Everybody's got scars somewhere, even if they wear them inside."

Michonne extended her hand and pushed gently at Carol's shoulder, turning her around. Carol stood there a minute, her hand over her mouth, staring at the wall in the cell, waiting for some kind of reaction.

"I don't think anyone's going to notice," Michonne said after a bit. "The dress covers most of it, I can only see a little, and if anyone's looking that hard they don't have enough to do."

'Are you sure?" Carol asked. "Because you don't have to say that to make me feel better. I want to know the truth so I don't go out there and embarrass myself."

"Why would you be embarrassed?" Michonne asked. "They're scars. Scars are just evidence of healing."

"But they're ugly," Carol said. "And I don't want anyone to see them. I don't want them looking at me and pitying me either…"

Michonne chuckled.

"Sometimes what we mistake for pity is really more admiration. Leave the sweater, and let's go for a walk," Michonne said.

Carol turned and reluctantly left the sweater. When she stepped outside, she was thankful that she wasn't wearing it, though. The breeze felt nice on her bare shoulders.

"I should really help them," she said, casting her eyes toward Karen and Sasha that were doing laundry. "Karen probably hates me even more now."

"Why do you think she hates you?" Michonne asked. Carol watched her as she lazily stood at the fence, stabbing Walkers one by one through it.

"I think she likes Daryl. She thinks she'd be better for him than me," Carol said. "She probably would be."

Michonne stopped stabbing the Walkers and turned back toward Carol.

"Why would you say that?" Michonne asked.

"She's pretty…she's young…" Carol said, gazing back toward the women for a moment.

"She's weak…she's got a bad attitude," Michonne said, tipping her head to the side. "Do you want to keep going, or do you want me to?"

Carol snickered.

"So I'm not the only one that's noticed the attitude?" Carol asked.

"Mmm…no," Michonne said. "What was it that Alice asked me this morning? I think she asked me if the woman that brought her breakfast came with a _cunt warning_…I'm pretty sure that was it. She doesn't take long to get under people's skin. She hates me too, but the thing is that I just don't care."

Carol sighed.

"I shouldn't care," she said, "but I wonder sometimes…"

Michonne started forward again in her slow pacing around the fences and Carol turned to walk with her.

"If you're wondering about Daryl, don't," Michonne said. "I can see things that you can't see. Daryl Dixon looks at you like a two year old looks at their first tricycle. It's like you're the most exciting thing he's ever seen in his life. The day that he got back after you went missing I thought he might kill all of us just out of the frustration that none of us could give him what he wanted. He was angry that we were careless enough to let someone take you from him in the first place. He's not the kind of man who looks at the merchandise to see what they can get next, he's too busy trying to hold on to what he's got."

"Let me guess," Carol said. "You were a psychiatrist before all this?"

Michonne chuckled a little.

"I was a lawyer, actually…now I'm just an observer, though it doesn't take much to see how Daryl is with you," Michonne said.

Carol considered it for a moment. She did feel like Daryl loved her, and she wondered sometimes, when she'd start to doubt it these days, if it was really just the haunting echo of a voice from her past. A voice that had convinced her that she couldn't be loved because she wasn't worthy of it. She didn't deserve it. Daryl might love her like she was his first tricycle, but part of her wondered if Daryl had ever that had before. He might not have ever even had the tricycle. Carol thought it was a strange thing to think, and it was even stranger that she found it a little comforting.

"So is congratulations OK to say?" Michonne asked after a few minutes, snapping Carol back to the realization that they were walking in thigh high weeds in a Georgia prison yard.

"What?" Carol asked.

"Congratulations, I don't think I said it. I don't really know what the etiquette is for pregnancy in a world gone to shit, but congratulations," Michonne said.

Carol watched her. Michonne was swinging her katana back and forth, cutting the grass in a way. Maybe this was how they mowed the lawn at the end of the world…Michonne walked lazily along and slapped at it with her katana.

"Thank you, I guess," Carol said. She realized that what Michonne said was right. There wasn't any etiquette to this. Congratulations…you're going to have a baby…but what that means, the possible horror surrounding it…that's not what the congratulations was for. Carol was struck for a second at how even the simplest rules for their old life no longer applied.

"Alice said it's healthy," Michonne said. "I'm sure you're terrified, but at least there's that, if it's any consolation prize."

Carol realized that Michonne had pretty much just echoed every thought she'd had about the baby in one sentence. Maybe she wasn't as crazy as she thought. She also realized that Michonne was speaking to her far more than she had the entire time she'd know the woman.

_But Michonne had been a mother once._ Carol thought. _A mother to two children. She didn't have them now, so she'd lost them. _

Perhaps her conversation was simply one mother who had grieved the loss of her children extending some kind of olive branch of understanding to another. Carol liked the woman talking to her, even more at the moment than she liked her generally stoic silence.

"What do you think about the new people?" Carol asked. If she trusted anyone's judgment right now, beyond Daryl's, she trusted Michonne's.

"I don't want to imagine what happened with them and the Governor," Michonne said, "or with you and the Governor, but I don't get any bad vibes from them. Alice has a lot of energy."

Michonne shook her head, smiling just a little.

"What?" Carol asked.

"Alice reminds me of those little wind up monkeys with the snare drums," Michonne said.

"I had one of those," Carol said, smiling at the image.

"She's got a mouth like a sailor," Michonne said, but I think she's harmless. "Mel is quiet, like nothing fazes her, but I suppose that if you've lived with the snare drum monkey for sixteen years you'd have to be pretty mellow."

"And Hank?" Carol asked. Just asking made her shiver a little. She was still haunted by the thought of what the man might have wanted her for, what he might have done, though the man standing behind the bars hadn't looked like the man that she'd thought he was, or like the man that sometimes haunted her dreams.

"Quiet," Michonne said. "Probably liked boiled peanuts and Nascar. Now he's an old man in a holding cell."

The thought of them bothered Carol. On the one hand she was terrified, at least of Hank, but on the other she felt sorry for them all. Alice had said they were victims of their circumstances, and she didn't think Alice was nearly as creepy as she remembered her. She hadn't been creepy at all while she'd looked her over the day before. Just a young woman with a bit of sass. Melodye had sat with her, talked to her, tried to comfort her. She'd already told the woman more than she'd told most people about her life, all the ugly details spilling forth as though she couldn't stop them. Carol hadn't met her before, she had no other image of her, just the image of a young woman that wanted to talk to her about her feelings. Carol wondered if she'd imagined Hank to be worse than he was, and if he really was just an old man, trapped in a cell with a snare drum playing monkey and her soft spoken counterpart.

"I want to see them," Carol said.

Michonne stopped and turned to face her.

"What?" She asked.

"I want to see them. I want to talk to them," Carol said.

"Daryl isn't back yet," Michonne said. "Maybe you should wait until he's back."

Carol thought about it. She wanted Daryl with her always, but that wasn't possible. Not now, at least, and she wanted to see them. She needed to see them, again. She felt _good_ today, and it was the first time she'd felt in a while. She wanted to see them when she felt good. She'd slept last night without a single dream of the Governor, without the terror that he would even be there, just behind her eyelids. Now she wanted to see the three people that were inside the prison, locked in a cell.

"You can take me," Carol said. "I want to see them."

Michonne looked reluctant at first, but she did start back toward the prison, and Carol followed her. As they neared the holding cell she felt her chest tightening up a little. She struggled to draw in a few breaths. She stopped for a moment in the path, closing her eyes and trying to will her nerves away. They were locked up, and she was the one that had the upper hand.

"Is it fuckin' lunch time, already?" Alice called out as they neared the cell.

"Back up," Michonne called out, walking in front of Carol. "Carol wants to see you."

"Well here I am, good to see you too, sweetheart," Alice said. "Did'ja bring me that book I asked for? Or are you too afraid I'm going to whittle it into a key and break outta here with my fuckin' super powers?"

"I'll get you something to do," Michonne said. "For now, calm down. Carol wants to see you."

Michonne stepped out of the way and Carol took Alice in at first. She was sitting on the floor. Her legs through the door of the cell, her body slumped against it, her arms out, hands on her knees. Alice looked up at her, and then she whistled.

"Hot stuff!" Alice said. "Like the dress. What's your cowboy had to say about it?"

Carol regarded the woman, sitting on the ground like that.

"Are you OK?" Carol asked finally, realizing that she really did feel sorry for her.

"She has cleisiphobia," Melodye's voice rang out. "It's the fear of locked spaces. She'd be much better if the door wasn't locked. It could be closed, maybe, but not locked."

Carol felt bad for her. She had problems with claustrophobia from time to time. Ed had been a big fan of locking her in closets. She'd always been terrified that she'd die in there.

"It's cool," Alice said. "I just thought I'd actually get to kill someone before I spent the rest of my fuckin' life rottin' in a jail cell…but what the fuck? Ya know? Shit happens…I might strangle that cunt ya got here, though, if she fuckin' bitches at me one damn time more because she's got to take out the fuckin' bucket we got in here. I mean sure, that's a shit job, and I mean that literally, but what the fuck else are we supposed to do?"

Carol stepped closer to the door. Melodye was sitting on a matress, and in the corner Hank was too.

"What were you going to do to me?" Carol asked. She ignored the others, regarding the man.

"Me?" He asked.

She swallowed, trying to calm her breathing.

"Yeah," she said.

Hank chuckled.

"I don't know," he said. "Or rather I don't know what I was going to do _with_ you. I just wanted you to live. To be honest, I was in over my head when Alice said you were pregnant. My Sue, she never could have kids. I figured we'd work through it somehow."

"You weren't going to rape me?" Carol asked. The old man regarding her now smiled.

"No, honey, nothin' like that. I couldn't if I wanted to most of the time. My Sue, she used to say the promise was just as good as the act. That was her way of trying to make me feel better…your body starts to turn on you, the older you get," he said. He was leaned against the wall.

Carol regarded them all a moment. Face to face with her nightmares, locked in a holding cell, she didn't see them the way she'd seen them before. Alice was trying to hold herself together, an energetic bundle of nerves on the floor. Melodye was watching her more than anything else. Hank was an old man, sitting on a mattress apart from their mattresses…slumped against a wall.

Carol turned away from them, back toward Michonne.

"I want to go to the cell," she said. She felt tired and she just wanted to lie down. She wanted to talk to Daryl.

"Let's go," Michonne said.

Carol turned and headed back to cell, aware that Michonne was following behind her. All of this was more than she thought she'd ever have to take in, more than she thought she'd have to deal with at the end of the world. Right now she just wanted to lie down and wait for Daryl to get back.


	31. Chapter 31

**AN: OK, sorry, this one is a pretty short one, but it's what I have for now. I hope you enjoy it despite the sad length. **

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Carol realized when she woke that she must have slept through Daryl first returning from his hunt, because when she woke he was coming in the cell, still dripping wet and smelling of soap. She'd never heard him come for his clean clothes.

"What did you get?" Carol asked, waking up a little.

"Just some squirrels," Daryl said. He combed his fingers through his hair. He regarded her then, curled up on the bed. "What'cha wearin'?"

She'd been wearing the tattered t shirt when he left. Carol got up from the bed, showing him the dress, slowly turning around.

"You like it?" She asked.

Daryl's crooked smile crossed his face. He walked forward and caught a piece of the skirt in his hand, rubbing the fabric.

"Yeah, I like it. I ain't never seen ya wearin' nothin' all girly like this," he said. "You look 'bout pretty enough that I think I'ma need me another shower."

He grinned at her now and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I was a little nervous about it, the back is lower than I usually wear," she said.

"Do ya lil' turn for me again?" He asked, dropping the piece of the skirt.

Carol turned for him then, more slowly, and he caught her by the shoulders when she had her back to him. She shivered when he kissed her shoulder and then moved to the crook of her neck.

"Ain't too low, Carol," Daryl said. "Ya got the prettiest shoulders I seen, ya oughta show 'em off while it ain't too damn cold ta do it."

"What about the scars?" Carol asked. She felt daryl rub his calloused fingers gently along the exposed skin on her back.

"Mmm, far as I can see the only scars ya got showin' back here woman is the ones ya told me ya didn't mind havin'. The ones ya got from that old pine tree," he said.

Carol smiled to herself, dropping her hand over her stomach for a moment.

"The scars I got the same I day I guess we got the butterbean?" Carol asked. She heard Daryl chuckle and he placed another kiss on her shoulder, resting his face there, his beard tickling her.

"I reckon maybe it weren't no pine tree then, maybe it was a bean tree," he said softly.

Carol shivered.

"Beans don't grow on trees, Daryl," Carol said.

"Might not, but they sure as hell can get planted on 'em," he said. He kissed her shoulder again and then moved from behind her. She turned around to see him mopping at his hair that was slowly soaking his shirt.

"Daryl…" Carol said.

"Yeah?" He responded, dropping his towel in the pile then and making a move as though he might be thinking of putting his boots back on to go on watch or something.

"Would you like to…I mean if you don't have something you have to do…I thought maybe we could…" Carol started. Suddenly she felt her face burning red, almost like it had the first time that she'd come to his cell.

"What'cha want, woman?" Daryl asked.

Carol stood there a second, thinking maybe she'd lose her nerve if she didn't do something now. She reached down and grabbed the skirt of the dress, pulling it over head and tossing it on the bed. Her ribs were still sore, and maybe this was a mistake to do just yet, but she couldn't help it. She really wanted him, and wasn't the motto no pain, no gain?

Daryl regarded her a moment, almost in shock. Finally he stepped forward, tipping her face up to him, and he kissed her.

"Ya sure?" He asked before making any move.

"Mmm hmmm," she hummed, biting her lip.

Daryl quickly got out of the clothes that he'd only recently put on. By the time he shimmied out of them, Carol was on the bed, having taken off her panties, and was waiting for him. Daryl crawled onto the bed, kissing her softly, his hands going to her breasts. She spread her legs and he moved between them on his knees, teasing her with his hand while he nibbled at her nipple. She kept her eyes closed, but moaned in response, one hand on the back of his shoulder and the other resting loosely on his arm, as though she had no idea what to do with it.

Daryl stopped a moment, absentmindedly going for one of the foil packets. She caught his arm and when he turned to look at her, she gently brought his face down to meet hers.

"Don't need one anymore," she said.

Daryl lingered there a moment, kissing her again.

"Ya sure 'bout this?" He asked.

"Daryl, don't I look sure?" Carol whispered back to him.

"Ain't gon' hurt the bean?" Daryl asked.

"Won't even bother it," Carol said.

Daryl moved to position himself, but he still looked worried.

"What about'cha ribs?" He asked.

"Just go easy, baby…" Carol said. She reached down to reassure him and to guide him into her.

Daryl tried to be as gentle as he could, and Carol made no protests. Finally she had come, just before he found his release. Both of them had cried out far louder than they'd intended, and far louder than was customary for the middle of the day in the prison.

"Yee haw!" Daryl heard Alice call as he slipped to the side of Carol, hovering just enough over her to keep from being entirely on the wall, but not enough to let his weight bear down on her.

"Fuckin' bitch," he growled. "Didn't hurt ya, did I?" He asked.

"No," Carol said. "And it'll just keep getting better now."

Carol leaned to kiss him and he lazily rubbed her nipple between his finger and his thumb.

"I don't know if I'm ready for seconds just yet," Carol said, still panting a little.

Daryl stopped rubbing her nipple. He blushed.

"Sorry," he said. "I wasn't thinkin' 'bout it, I was just thinkin' that I like ya tits."

Carol snickered.

"That's so romantic, Daryl," she said.

"Done told ya I don't know nothin' 'bout that romance shit," he said.

"Daryl, do you think we should let them out of the holding cell?" Carol asked after a minute.

"Do ya wanna let 'em loose?" Daryl asked.

"Well they're not pets, Daryl," Carol said. "I just don't think it's fair of us to keep them locked in there. We've either got to let them leave, or let them stay, but I don't want to know anymore that they're locked up like that because of me."

Daryl considered it a moment.

"If'n Alice is good at helpin' with babies, though, don't ya reckon we oughta least keep 'em 'til after the baby gets here?" Daryl asked.

"That's probably at least six months, Daryl. We can't keep them caged up for six months, it isn't right," Carol said.

"If they stay, though, then that Hank feller would prob'ly be stayin' too, is ya sure ya OK with that?" Daryl asked.

"Well…" Carol said, "I suppose it would be fine, as long as he doesn't think that I belong to him or anything."

"Hell no ya don't belong ta him!" Daryl growled.

Carol chuckled.

"And just who do I belong to?" She asked.

"Ya my woman, Carol," Daryl said. "An' I ain't givin' ya up."

"Not even when some young little thing shows up here one day, sashaying around and offering you a prize?" Carol teased.

Apparently Daryl didn't realize she was teasing. He looked a little shocked, and then a little hurt. Carol was almost sorry that she'd said it now.

"I ain't lookin' for no prize from nobody, damn it," Daryl growled. He started to get up then. "Sayin' shit like that, makin' me sound like I ain't no damn better than Merle was."

"Daryl, I was just teasing you," Carol said. She sat up and found her dress discarded near the bottom of the bed. She slipped back into it. "It's OK. I don't think you're like Merle. You _know_ I don't think you're like Merle, but it doesn't mean that I don't worry sometimes that someone's going to come along and try to steal you away from me."

"Yeah, well, you're makin' that shit up in ya head," Daryl said. "I done _had_ some body steal ya from me for real, an' I know I'da burned down the whole fuckin' state if that's what it woulda took ta find ya an' get'cha back, so don't ya go raggin' me none 'bout some piece a' ass stealin' me away, whether ya jokin' or not." He had wrestled into his clothes now and was pulling on his boots.

"Are you really mad, Daryl?" Carol asked, suddenly concerned.

"Ya damn right I'm pissed, woman," Daryl said. "But I'ma let ya off the hook, just this one time. Don't let me hear ya sayin' that shit no more."

Carol nodded.

"I'm sorry, I won't say it again," she said. She hated that she'd made him upset.

"Ah hell, now ya gon' start bawlin' again?" He asked.

Carol shook her head no, but that didn't mean that the tears weren't there.

"I didn't mean to make you mad," Carol said. "I'm sorry."

Daryl sighed and walked over to the bed, threading one of his hands under her arm and pulling her upwards to her feet.

"Stop ya cryin' if ya only cryin' 'cause a' me," Daryl said. "I just don't like it when ya say stuff like that, 'cause ya just beatin' yourself down an' it ain't right. Save ya tears for somethin' better than that, Carol."

Carol did dry her eyes and he pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around him and stood there for a moment.

"Let's go let 'em outta their pen an' see what they wanna do," Daryl said. "If'n they got half a mind ta go they ain't gon' get far 'fore sundown as it is."

"I'm sorry," Carol said again. "I love you."

"I love ya too, woman, now I mean it, enough a' that cryin'. I ain't even mad no more," Daryl said.

Carol broke away then, letting him lead her out of the cell and toward the place where the others waited, unaware that their freedom had been bought.

"I mean it, though, woman, I ain't lettin' ya go for nothin'," Daryl said as they walked the corridor.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Carol said.


	32. Chapter 32

**AN: So, again, it's not super long, but slowly we keep advancing in the story.**

**I thank you all for your continued interest. You're great and I appreciate all of your lovely reviews!**

**I hope you enjoy! **

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Daryl pulled Carol along behind him as he searched for Rick to tell him about their decision to free the three people. Nobody knew what to call them, and they were reluctant to call them prisoners since their incarceration had very little to do with any proven crime on their part.

Finally, Daryl found Rick, just outside in the courtyard.

"Rick," Daryl called. Rick turned and watched as Daryl walked toward him, tugging Carol by the hand, though she had every intention of following him even if he were to let go. "We're gonna let them three outta the holdin' pen."

Rick nodded at him and looked at Carol.

"Are you sure you're ready for us to do that?" Rick asked.

Carol nodded.

"I can't leave them locked up in there, Rick. We don't have any right to keep them caged up. They didn't do anything but come here looking for help," Carol said.

Rick considered it a moment and then nodded.

"Are you going to ask them to stay?" He asked, directing his attention at Daryl.

"Yeah, if ain't nobody got a problem with it, we was thinkin' that it might be a good idea to have that yappy one here on account a' the baby," Daryl said.

Rick looked at Carol and Carol looked away. She assumed that everyone knew about the baby, but she hadn't spoken directly with many people about it. She wasn't sure how everyone was going to take to the idea.

Rick looked back at Daryl, catching Carol averting her eyes from him. He shrugged.

"I don't think anyone cares. They haven't bothered anyone. I think that Alice gets under Karen's skin a little, but I haven't heard anyone else say anything negative about them," Rick said.

Daryl chewed his thumb. Everyone seemed to get on Karen's nerves, and Karen got everyone else's nerves, except for maybe Rick's. Daryl wasn't even certain that she didn't annoy him from time to time. He wasn't really concerned about whether or not she was bothered with the new people, especially not if they could come in handy.

"Fine," Daryl said. "I'ma go let 'em out then an' see if'n they wanta stay or not."

Rick didn't say anything, just nodded his understanding, and Daryl turned, headed back inside, Carol following along closely behind him, her hand grasped in his.

As they approached the holding cell, Alice met them at the door.

"Really? You're here already? That's not sufficient cuddle time after all that fucking howling, now is it?" She asked.

"Why don't'cha shut up 'fore I we change our minds about lettin' ya outta here?" Daryl said. He dropped Carol's hand then.

"Are you really letting us go?" Alice asked.

Daryl unlocked the cell door and pulled it open. He stood there, face to face with the brunette.

"We was gonna ask ya ta stay. If'n ya want, ya can pick any cell that's open, all of ya can," Daryl said. "Ya gotta play nice with everyone an' earn ya keep, but ya can stay."

"Is this some kind of trick?" Alice asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Ain't no fuckin' trick," Daryl spat. "Ya can leave if ya got a mind ta go, but ya ain't gonna get far before night fall an' then good luck ta all three a' ya, 'cause ya ain't gonna make it, not with her limpin' like that an' him not able ta move no faster than he does. It's up to y'all though, do what'cha please."

"So if we stay," Alice said, "do we stay as prisoners, or do we stay as equals?"

"If ya stay, ya stay as part of the group, that means just that," Daryl said. He stood there and watched as Alice went over and collected up the bags that she and Melodye had carried into the prison yard. Hank got up from the mattress he was occupying and took his own bag as well. Alice squeezed past Daryl and Carol first, Melodye limping behind her, and then Hank passed through, oblivious to the fact that Carol absentmindedly took a step behind Daryl when he moved by them.

Alice stopped as they walked into the common area of the prison.

"Let's just say we're gonna stay, cowboy, where do we pick our cells?" Alice asked.

"Most of 'em upstairs is open," Daryl said. "An' there's a couple down here. Ya just gotta look around."

Alice looked at her travelling companions, and Daryl and Carol watched all of them. She heaved the bags up and turned toward the stairs, glancing up for a moment.

"Fine, we'll give it a try, but we're not going back in that fucking pen. Deal is we either get to stay here like we're fucking humans or we hit the damn road and you never see our faces again," she said.

"Whatever," Daryl said.

"Daryl, help her," Carol said as Alice started toward the stairs. Daryl walked over and took one of the bags from her, heaving it over his own shoulder. He followed her up the stairs with Melodye and Hank behind them. Carol stayed below and watched them as they walked along. Finally Alice disappeared into a cell.

"That bag goes in here too," she called. Daryl looked at Melodye, who was waiting patiently behind him, and then stepped forward passing the bag to Alice. Hank ducked into the cell beside them, but didn't reemerge.

"Can we go outside?" Alice asked, stepping back out the cell.

"I don't give a fuck where ya go," Daryl said. He started back down the stairs and stopped beside Carol for a minute. "I'm s'posed ta go on watch," he said to Carol. "If ya need me, just let someone know an' they'll come an' get me."

"I think I'll be fine," Carol said.

Daryl walked off and Carol hesitated a moment before heading back to her cell. Alice was descending the steps, the other two seemingly having decided to stay in their cells.

"Thank you," Alice said, walking up to Carol. She smiled.

"You don't have to thank me," Carol said.

"Oh, yes I do," Alice said. "It had to be you that called the final shots or we'd have stayed in there."

"Well, you're welcome then," Carol said. She paused for a minute. "I guess I owe you a thank you too."

Alice cocked her eyebrow slightly in question and Carol smiled.

"I don't remember everything…" she paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't remember everything, but I think that if it hadn't been for you, I might not be here now, able to decide to let you out of the cell."

Alice smiled again and reached out, squeezing Carol's shoulder.

"I'm a doctor," she said. "I took an oath to take care of people, and I meant it."

Carol smiled in response, unsure of how to respond to the younger woman. She turned then, headed back to the cell.

"Where the fuck you think you're going?" Alice called.

"I'm going to my cell," Carol said, turning around suddenly. Alice was grinning.

"I just got the hell out of captivity and Mel wants to lie down. You don't need to be holed up in a dark cell, take me on a tour of the outside world," Alice said.

Carol hesitated a moment. She hadn't gone outside if she wasn't with Daryl or Michonne. She hadn't admitted it to them yet, but the outside was still a scary place to her. She felt vulnerable out there. It was being out there that had put her in a position to be taken in the first place.

"I won't take no for an answer," Alice said. She waved at Carol, motioning her toward her.

Carol stepped forward and followed her outside into the courtyard.

"I've already been out for a walk once today," Carol said.

"Are you only allowed one free pass a day or something?" Alice asked.

"No, I just don't go out very often," Carol said. She glanced around. Maggie was cooking dinner with the help of Sasha. Down at the lower fences she could see Michonne wandering about with Tyreese. Things seemed quiet and calm.

"So what the fuck does everyone do around here all the damn time anyway?" Alice asked when they were walking. "You just hang out and fuck all day?"

"There's a lot to be done," Carol said. "Cooking, laundry, things like that have to be done daily. Someone is always on watch, and there's usually always someone walking the parameters."

"I could do most of that, but I doubt anyone wants me cooking," Alice said. "Mel's a good cook and if it weren't for her I'd probably have lived my entire life eating hot pockets and fucking Ramen noodles." Alice was quiet for a minute, and Carol walked along beside her, studying the woman. She looked markedly different even now than she had in the cell. Much more relaxed, and perhaps a lot less like a snare drum monkey. "Did you plan the kid or was it an accident?" Alice asked suddenly.

Carol was caught off guard. She couldn't really imagine anyone _planning_ to have a child right now, but perhaps she was wrong in assuming that.

"It was an accident," she said finally.

"You never know," Alice said. "I guess someone's got to repopulate the world, or what the hell is left of it."

Carol thought to herself that she certainly didn't want some task like repopulating the world. She was terrified enough of just this one tiny baby, less likely the thought of a brood of children.

"Your kid before," Alice said, "how did you have her?"

Carol stopped a minute. She knew that Alice knew about Sophia. She'd told her that she'd had a child already, but she hadn't told her any details. She'd told Mel the details. She assumed now that it would be foolish to think that Mel hadn't spoken at all to Alice about anything that she'd said.

Alice stopped too, noticing that Carol had halted.

"You OK?" Alice asked. Carol looked at her.

"Yeah…I'm fine," she said. Alice frowned at her.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive. I just meant from a medical perspective it's good to know what to expect," Alice said.

"No," Carol said. "No, it's fine. I…uh…she was born naturally."

"Well that's good," Alice said. She chuckled a little. "I don't even want to try to wrap my mind around all that could go wrong with trying to perform a c-section under these conditions, but natural is easy enough."

Carol felt a catch in her chest, and she thought about Lori. A lot of things _could_ go wrong with someone needing a c-section. Suddenly she felt herself panic a little over the thought that something could go wrong even now. What if she wasn't able to deliver the baby naturally? Even if she could deliver it naturally, what if something went wrong then? Suddenly she felt panicky and realizing she was outside just made the feeling worse. She wanted desperately to be back in her cell.

"Drugs?" Alice asked, turning back toward her, smiling.

Carol couldn't respond. She didn't even want to respond. She stopped, and swallowed. She turned and started back into the prison without offering any explanation.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Alice called. "Hey! Are you alright?"

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Daryl was on watch with Glenn, but since Carol had emerged from the prison with the brunette he'd been doing more watching of the courtyard than he had of any of the Walkers wandering around outside the fences waiting on Michonne to get to them as she strolled with Tyreese, taking them down through the chain link.

For some reason Daryl instinctively felt that the brunette was harmless, at least physically. She didn't seem to be a threat as long as nothing was actively threatening her, and even then he wondered how much of a threat she really was. He imagined that her back had to really be against a wall before she was going to be poised to attack.

He didn't think, however, that she was entirely harmless with her mouth. He wasn't even sure that she _meant_ to cause damage, but she had something about her that made her chatty, even when it might not be the best time for her to be chatty, or she might not be saying the best things that she could be.

And for that reason he was leery of her strolling with Carol.

When Daryl saw Carol dart back toward the prison he immediately got to his feet.

"I'll be back," he growled at Glenn, not waiting for a response. He descended the guard tower as quickly as he could and made his way directly into the prison and to his cell to find Carol curled up on the bed, hugging one of the pillows. She wasn't sobbing, so perhaps that was a good sign. "Somethin' wrong with ya?" He asked, coming into the cell. Carol regarded him a moment, still hugging the pillow. He went over and sat on the edge of the bed.

Carol got up then and before he knew it she'd practically launched herself against him. He wrapped one arm around her quickly, keeping himself from tumbling over with the other.

"Hey, easy, what the hell's got'cha riled up?" He asked.

"It's nothing," Carol said. She felt stupid telling him that she was suddenly afraid of having the baby. That she was suddenly scared of all the things that could go wrong, of what could happen to her, or the baby, or to both of them.

"Don't feel like nothin', ya shakin' like a damn earthquake, woman. What's wrong with ya?" Daryl asked again.

Carol pulled off of him then and sat back on the bed.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I don't want to talk about it right now," she said. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. I just need a few minutes."

When Daryl sat there a moment, looking at her like he was confused, Carol couldn't really take it. She didn't know how to explain to him all the things that she was scared of, and she didn't really want him to have to worry about them. There was nothing that he could do about it any of it anyway. This was her cross to bear.

"Really," she said, trying to be as collected as possible. "It's really nothing, Daryl, I just…I really just needed to be back in the cell. I'm going to be fine. You can go back on watch. You really didn't need to come down."

Daryl crinkled his eyebrows at her again and she smiled in an attempt to reassure him.

"Ya sure ya gonna be OK, 'cause I ain't gotta do watch. I reckon Glenn is just fine up there if ya need me ta be in here with ya," he said.

"I'm fine. You can go back to watch," Carol said. "It's nothing."

Daryl sighed and nodded his head a little.

"Well, alright, woman. If ya need me, ya know where I am," he said. He got up and turned back to her before exiting the cell. Carol smiled again, pressing him forward, and watched him slip through the slit in the blanket.

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"What the hell did'ja do ta her?" Daryl yelled as he caught up with Alice in the court yard. As he stormed toward her she backed up a few steps, as though she might make a run for it.

"I didn't do anything!" She protested suddenly.

Daryl stopped in front of her and she seemed to collect herself.

"She's upset about somethin' an' she won't say what. I let ya outta that cell for twenty damn minutes an' ya already fucked her up! Ya better tell me what the fuck ya did so as I can fix it!" Daryl yelled.

Alice narrowed her eyes at him.

"I didn't do a fucking thing! I asked her about how she had her first kid and I said it was good that she had it naturally because I wouldn't want to do a fucking c-section out here, and she flipped out and ran back into the prison!" Alice yelled back. "I didn't do anything, so don't get in my fucking face about it!"

Daryl stopped a moment. He thought about it.

"Why ya gotta go an' talk about that shit no way? Rick lost his wife that way, ya probably freaked her the fuck out!" He said when he'd considered it.

Alice threw her hands up in the air.

"Well excuse the hell out of me!" She said. "I don't know how much you know about babies, but they have to fucking come out at some point, I was just trying to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to expect since I'm apparently the one that's supposed to bring _that one_ into the world!"

Daryl knew that she did have a point about babies having to be born, but he wished she hadn't said anything to Carol. At least not yet. Today had been the best that she'd been in a long time and now she was cowering in the cell again. The problem, on top of it all, was that he had no idea how to fix it. He didn't know what to tell her. As much as he wanted to solve each and every problem that Carol had, and as much as he wanted to reassure her about all the fears and insecurities she threw at him, he just wasn't able to do it. It made him feel helpless, and that was a feeling that he despised. On top of that, it made him feel like he couldn't take care of her. As much as he wanted to, the reality of the situation was that he couldn't _protect_ her. He couldn't protect her from losing Sophia, he couldn't protect her from the Governor's sick games, and now he couldn't protect her from this.

"Fuck!" He growled.

Daryl went back to the guardtower where he'd left his crossbow. Without a word to Glenn he took it and descended the tower again. He struck out across the court yard, stopping only momentarily when he got to the gates and Tyreese asked where he was going.

"I'm goin' huntin'," he said.

"This late?" Tyreese asked. "It'll be getting dark soon, Daryl."

"I'm goin' huntin'. I'll be back before dark. Have Michonne keep an eye on Carol. I ain't gonna be gone too long," he said, slipping through the gates, taking out the few Walkers left lingering there, and setting out toward the woods with more intention of trying to clear his head than he had of actually trying to find anything to eat.


	33. Chapter 33

**AN: So here we go, a little more to our story. I will hopefully have some more written tomorrow to continue on our way.**

**As always, thank you for reading and thank you for your reviews and continued support! **

**I hope you enjoy! **

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When Daryl was approaching the gates Rick was there on watch. He was leaned against the truck that they'd parked close to the gates, and through the quickly falling darkness Daryl could barely make him out. It wasn't until he started toward the gates that Daryl was even sure that he was there or sure that he knew who he was looking at.

"Where is everybody?" Daryl asked. The courtyard was abandoned except for Rick. Rick walked back over to where he'd been standing and held up the plate he'd rested on the lowered tailgate of the truck.

"It's dinnertime, they're all eating," Rick said. "Good hunt?" He asked.

Daryl knew that Rick was more or less alluding to the fact that though he'd been gone a while, he hadn't brought a thing back, and that was owing to the fact that he hadn't really put forth any sort of real effort to locate anything.

Daryl had mostly spent his time in the woods alternating between not knowing what to do with his feelings, and taking them out on whatever Walkers he happened upon. He wasn't used to this. Daryl Dixon had never considered himself a man of feelings and right now he had far more than he was comfortable with and far more than he wanted to think about. He couldn't even sort them out for himself because every time that he tried to pinpoint what was going on, he kept running into another thought that overwhelmed him. This wasn't something he was used to at all, and he wasn't sure that he liked it one bit. He'd briefly wondered, traipsing through the woods if he was losing his mind. Maybe it had all become too much and he'd cracked somehow, like he'd seen others do, and he didn't consider himself a man capable of cracking.

"Game ain't good tonight," Daryl said, starting to head toward the prison to eat whatever had been prepared.

"Daryl," Rick called. Daryl turned around and walked back to where Rick was standing, next to the tailgate.

"Huh?" He asked.

"I know you might not want to," Rick said, "but if you want to talk about it, well, you know you can."

Daryl stood there, looking at Rick. What did he want from him? Did he want some kind of damn heart to heart where they sat side by side on the back of the filthy, rusty pick-up truck and sobbed about their feelings? He'd be damned if he was going to do that with anyone, no matter if he couldn't figure out for himself what the hell was going on in his brain. He wasn't having no kind of heart to heart girly chat with Rick.

"I ain't got nothin' ta talk about, Rick, just weren't no damn game, that's all," Daryl growled.

Rick regarded him for a moment.

"I know that I haven't been in _exactly_ the same position you're in," Rick said, "but I know that you've got a lot going on right now."

"I'm fine," Daryl grunted.

"Daryl, you left without telling anyone where you were going, and not too long before the sun started to set," Rick said.

Daryl looked around. The darkness had completely enveloped them now. He could see the outline of Rick, but nothing specific about him. He knew he was there, but he couldn't see anything about his expression.

"Yeah, well, I done told ya I went huntin'," Daryl said.

"Carol's upset," Rick said.

"Fuck!" Daryl spat before even thinking about it.

"Daryl, you left without even telling her that you were leaving. We didn't realize she had no idea about it until she started asking if you were on watch and if anyone was taking you a plate," Rick explained.

Daryl listened to him, but it didn't make it any better. He didn't want her to be upset, but he didn't feel like dealing with her being upset either. He felt like there was nothing he could do about it. There was no way to make sure she _wouldn't _be upset. If he'd told her that he was going out, she'd have been upset. He didn't tell her he was going out, and now she was upset. She was upset almost all the time over everything. He wished it wasn't dark. If it hadn't been, he would have slipped out hunting again. He didn't want to go in the prison and deal with her, red eyed and sobbing.

"What else is new?" Daryl said finally, turning and heading back toward the prison, stewing in his own irritation at the matter.

Daryl passed through and got himself a plate of supper. He sat down in an empty chair near Tyreese and started to eat, attempting to make as little eye contact as possible, hoping that would indicate to everyone that he had no intention of engaging in conversation.

"Michonne's with her," Tyreese said, leaning toward him somewhat.

"Good," Daryl growled. "Let her deal with it."

Hershel, who was sitting nearby tending to Judith, turned his attention on Daryl despite Daryl's wishes to be ignored.

"Is there something on your mind, son?" Hershel asked.

Daryl turned and looked at the old man. Yet another face staring at him, expecting him to do what? To talk about it? To share his feelings at the dinner table like they were all the Waltons or something?

"No," Daryl grunted in response. He quickly ate what was left of his dinner and left the plate. He got up and collected his crossbow from the corner that he had left it in and started back toward his cell. As he got there, he almost bumped into Michonne who was coming out carrying plates. She jumped a little, obviously not expecting to see him right in front of her. He started to move to the side to avoid her, but she stepped in front of him, blocking his passage.

"She's really upset," Michonne said in a very low voice, her eyes trained on him. "She quit crying, though, so if you play your cards right, she might not start back."

Daryl didn't say anything, he just shouldered past her and entered the cell.

Carol was sitting somewhat expectantly on the bed, as though she was awaiting the return of Michonne. She looked a little taken aback when Daryl walked into the cell. Then she just looked at him, not saying anything, though he waited for something. Finally he sighed.

"You left," Carol said finally, "and you didn't say that you were leaving."

"I went huntin'," Daryl said. He sat down on the bed and started to take off his boots.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were leaving?" Carol asked. He heard her voice shake and it ran through him, like a lightning bolt of irritation. Yet another responsibility…yet another thing that he was supposed to do and didn't do right. No matter what it was, it seemed, he was supposed to do it, but he wasn't going to get it right. He felt the frustration rising up in him and the only thing that he wanted at the moment was to be away from it, to be free from it.

"Damn it, Carol!" He growled, standing up. "I ain't gotta fuckin' tell ya every damn thing that I do. I ain't never in my life had ta answer ta nobody every damn minute of the day! I went huntin' an' I'm back, an' that's good enough."

Daryl huffed, standing up, his blood pumping rapidly. Carol sat there on the bed, her eyes wide, and her knees drawn up to her chest now. He could see her lips quivering and large tears visibly rolled down her face.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl spat. He stormed out of the cell and headed straight through the prison. He could hear the echoing of her crying bouncing off the walls. The sound tore through him, but at this moment he didn't feel like he could go in there. He didn't feel like he was in a place to offer her whatever it was she needed from him. He just didn't _have_ whatever it was. He needed to be away from the sound, so he left the prison and crawled up into the watchtower.

Glenn was in the watchtower alone, leaning against the wall half asleep when Daryl got in there.

"Get the fuck outta here, I'm on watch," Daryl growled.

Glenn sat up, looking surprised.

"I thought I had watch all night tonight," Glenn said.

"Change a' plans," Daryl said. He dropped down against the opposite wall from Glenn and picked up the binoculars there, looking out as though he could actually see anything through the darkness.

"Where did you go earlier?" Glenn asked.

"I went huntin'," Daryl said. "What the fuck ya still doin' here? I said get outta here."

"You already talked to Carol?" Glenn asked. "She was really upset."

"Ain't none a' ya damn business," Daryl said.

"Look, if you want to talk about it, then just talk. I'm not leaving. I've got watch tonight, and we're not supposed to leave our posts, even if an irate Daryl should stumble into our paths," Glenn said, leaning back against the wall.

"Man, what the fuck is it with everyone wantin' ta talk about feelin's an' shit 'round here? Next damn thing ya know an' y'all a' wanna start braidin' each other's hair an' paintin' each other's nails an' shit. I ain't got nothin' ta talk about, so if ya gonna stay up here just shut ya fuckin' mouth," Daryl growled, finally putting down the binoculars that were of no use whatsoever.

"I get it," Glenn said. "I mean, I know you've got a lot going on right now and I couldn't even imagine it all. If it had been Maggie, I don't know what I would have would done. When the Governor had her…when he did what he did to her…I was so mad that I couldn't even see straight, but the worst thing I could have done was take it out on Maggie."

"I ain't fuckin' took nothin' out on Carol. I ain't touched her," Daryl said.

"I didn't mean to say that you had," Glenn corrected. "I just mean that sometimes we get angry and it just comes out, even when we don't mean for it to come out. And I can't imagine what you're going through with the baby. I don't know how I'd feel if Maggie were pregnant right now. I mean the Governor's dead, and that's great, but we don't know how many other people there are out there like him, you know? I could see how it might get to be too much."

"Ya 'bout done flappin' ya jaws?" Daryl asked.

"I'm just trying to help," Glenn said.

"Yeah, well shut up, that's all the help I need," Daryl said.

He leaned his head back against the wall. That wasn't really all the help he needed, but he couldn't very well see how sitting up here in the guard tower swapping feelings with the Korean kid was going to solve any of his problems. On top of what he already had before, now he also had to solve the fact that Carol was most likely going to be very upset about him having lost his temper and deciding to stay in the watchtower for the night, but he wasn't ready to be back in the cell just now and he wanted some time to himself so that he didn't say anything else that he regretted.

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Michonne lie in her bed in the cell, staring at the bottom bunk. Several of them had tried to soothe Carol, but it had been in vain, mostly because she protested that she didn't want any of them in there, no matter who it was. At this point, everyone had finally given up and retired to bed, but her sobbing still echoed through the prison, and Michonne found it difficult to just go to sleep knowing the misery that the woman was in just a few cells away.

Michonne sighed and got up. She didn't bother to dress, deciding that the oversized t shirt she was wearing was sufficient for slipping down the corridor a few doors. She got to Carol's cell and saw through the blanket that the lamp was still burning inside. The sobs were much louder.

Michonne walked into the cell without announcing her presence. Carol was lying on her side, facing the wall, her back to Michonne. She turned slightly when Michonne came in and jumped at realizing that it was her. She wiped at her eyes and tried to still her sobbing. Michonne walked over to the edge of the bed.

"You've got to get some sleep," Michonne said.

"I'm fine," Carol said between gasps for air.

"OK, I've got to get some sleep," Michonne said, undeterred at this point by Carol's desire to argue about the situation.

"So go sleep," Carol said. "I didn't ask you to be here. I'm just fine alone."

Michonne stood there a minute. She wasn't going back to her cell. She wasn't going to sleep in her cell if she did. She'd just lie there, continuing to listen to the sobbing. If everyone else could drown in out, that was great for them, but she couldn't.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'm going to deny it," Michonne said. "Move over."

"What?" Carol asked, looking back over her shoulder at Michonne.

"Move over," Michonne repeated.

Carol obliged her and moved over. Michonne lifted up the cover and crawled into the bed. She blew out the lamp and got comfortable, wrapping her arm around Carol.

"Hush, now, get some sleep," she said.

"I don't know where he is, he just left," Carol sobbed.

"Shh…I saw him go into the watchtower. He's up there with Glenn. He hasn't gone anywhere. He's just up there being a man," Michonne said. "He'll blow off some steam and be back in the morning."

"I didn't mean to make him mad," Carol sobbed.

"It's not your fault," Michonne whispered back to her. "Take some deep breaths, you're going to make yourself sick and I don't feel like getting vomited on. It's not your fault. There's been a lot going on for him too, I'm guessing it's just got the best of him right now. It doesn't mean a thing."

Carol did take some deep breaths and Michonne felt her starting to calm, the sobbing lessening to a hiccupping sound.

"What if he doesn't come back? What if it's too much for him? The baby, me, all of it? What if he's really gone?" Carol said.

"Shhh…hush with that too. He's coming back. I've seen him with you, he's not going anywhere. He's just taking a break," Michonne said. "Get some rest and you'll both be calmer to talk about things in the morning."

"I don't know what I'm going to do…" Carol started.

"You're going to sleep," Michonne said, interrupting her. "Carol, this is not the end of the world. The sky is not falling. I know it might seem like it is right this minute, but tomorrow you're going to realize that you're overreacting. It's all going to be just fine."

Michonne didn't know at first if Carol was going to calm down and sleep, but slowly the sobbing sounds subsided and Carol began breathing rhythmically. Michonne didn't move, for fear of waking her up. She wondered, briefly, how she ended up in these positions, but finally she settled down to salvage whatever was left of the night and get as much sleep as she possibly could. She hoped that she hadn't lied to the woman who was sleeping with her back against her, though she doubted that she had.

Hopefully the light of morning would find Daryl well rested and able to discuss what he was feeling, and hopefully it would find Carol well rested and able to keep a level head about her during said discussion. What was true for the moment, though, was that Daryl was in the watchtower with Glenn, hopefully working out some of his issues, and Carol had finally fallen asleep either through her help or through finally crying herself out. Michonne closed her eyes and drifted off herself, sure that the morning had to be better than the evening had been.


	34. Chapter 34

**AN: There was such a great response on the last chapter that I decided to get this one out for you as well. There's another that I'm working on, so it may be out later today. **

**Thank you all so much for your support, your comments, and your thoughts. And yes, as you know if you've read my other fic "What Future Is There?", I'm totally shipping Carol and Michonne as super besties! LOL (Though I don't know if you can "ship" friendships, but I do.)**

**I hope you enjoy as our story continues! **

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Daryl left the watchtower long before night watch was supposed to be up. He left Glenn, nodding sleepily against the wall, and slipped out of the rickety structure. He hadn't slept at all. He hadn't really kept watch either. He'd sat there, leaned against the wall, and tried to sort everything out, but nothing felt any clearer than it had when he'd first sat down, and now his head pounded and his back ached from the hard floor. Glenn had tried to talk to him, at various intervals throughout what had been one of the longest nights of his life, but he'd ignored the kid for the most part.

Daryl stumbled into the prison feeling not unlike he'd just spent the night with his friends Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, and Johnny Walker. The truth being, however, that none of them had been around to whisper any such comfort in his ear as they might have been before all this had happened. He made his way to the cell and slipped quietly through the slit in the curtain.

Daryl stopped for a moment. His bed was occupied, fully occupied. Carol held the spot that was normally reserved for him, and curled against her, equally unconscious, was Michonne. Both of them snoring softly, tangled up in the blankets.

Daryl shook his head and picked up some of the clothes piled on the chair just inside the door. He slipped back out of the cell and made his way through the quiet prison toward the showers to attempt to wash off some of the residue of his thoughts.

Once in the shower room he put his things on one of the benches and selected a washcloth and a bar of soap left there by Maggie or Karen or whoever had been the last to stock the shower room after laundry. He turned on the shower in one of the stalls and stepped in, letting the water run over him for a moment without moving.

As Daryl was standing there another figure entered into the shower room. It was Tyreese. Daryl thought the man would leave, but he didn't. He acknowledged Daryl with a nod of his head, put his clothes down on the bench and stripped, making his way to another of the stalls and turning on the water. Daryl stood there a moment and then decided that he didn't give a shit.

"You're up early," Tyreese said, washing himself under the spray of water. "Usually when I get in here there's no one up."

"Didn't fuckin' sleep," Daryl said. "What the fuck ya doin' up?"

Tyreese chuckled.

"Best time of the day, my man. I get up early, go pump some iron in the gym, get a shower, and I feel alive for the rest of the day. Sleep good when I go to bed, ya know?" Tyreese said.

Daryl thought Tyreese was entirely too chipper at this moment. He felt like there was a gorilla inside his head playing drums on his brain, and Tyreese looked as though he may break into song under the water spray two stalls down from him.

"Your fuckin' girlfriend is in my bed," Daryl growled, looking over at him. He began to lather his own washcloth now. Tyreese looked amused.

"My girlfriend?" Tyreese asked.

"Yeah," Daryl grunted. "Ain't Michonne ya girl?"

Tyreese chuckled.

"I guess she is," he said, "when she wants to be. Michonne doesn't belong to anyone but Michonne, though. Why is she in your bed?"

"Beats the hell outta me," Daryl said.

"Prob'ly just handlin' Carol," Tyreese said. "She was shook up pretty good last night. She got quiet, though so that's probably what happened. What the hell happened to you last night anyway? Y'all were serenading the prison with sweet love songs one minute, and the next thing we all know, you're tearing out through the courtyard like if you didn't go hunting immediately we'd never eat again."

"Just went huntin' is all," Daryl said.

"You know," Tyreese said, "I had a kid once. A daughter, Julie. Man that was sure a ride. I thought I really loved my wife, but when she got pregnant, there were times I didn't even think I knew her. You know, at one point, I even convinced myself she wasn't pregnant. I decided it wasn't a baby so much as it was some kind of alien host like you used to see on all those sci fi movies. One minute she'd be purring like a kitten and the next damn minute it seemed like I was the cause of everything bad in the world."

"I reckon ya think I wanna talk about it too, huh?" Daryl said.

Tyreese chuckled and turned off the water in his own stall.

"No, man, I don't think you want to talk about it, but it might just help. Suit yourself, though," Tyreese said. He went for his towel and Daryl went back to his own shower. He waited until Tyreese had left before finally shutting off the water in his own stall and going to towel off.

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Carol woke a little and snuggled back into Daryl. As soon as she did so, however, she realized that the body that she'd just burrowed into was not Daryl's. She looked down at the arm draped across her and the night before came flooding back. She remembered that it was Michonne who was sleeping against her now, and that she'd come in there only after Daryl had yelled at her for being upset that he'd left the prison without telling her where he was going.

_He had yelled at her because she'd been upset that he'd left the prison without telling her where he was going. He'd been mad at her. He didn't have to answer to anyone. He didn't have to tell anyone what he was doing or when he was doing it. _

Carol felt herself growing a little annoyed just thinking about it. He'd taken off, just as it was getting late. He'd left the prison without telling her anything and had only told Tyreese that he was going hunting. That was it. Then he'd _yelled_ at her for being upset about it. If it had been her or anyone else who had simply walked out the gates, alone, at one of the most potentially dangerous times of day without giving any report for where they were going or when they thought to be back, he'd have been furious…and yet he'd _yelled_ at her for expressing her concern.

She started to stir then, the irritation growing into something more. Never mind the fact that he'd told her that he would be in the watchtower if she needed him and then he'd left the prison without so much as mentioning it to her. Never mind the fact that if something had happened, and she _had _actually needed him there would have been no one who had any idea as to his actual whereabouts. _Never mind_ the fact that she'd had to find out, when she went to get dinner, expecting him to appear from the watchtower at any time, that he'd simply disappeared and that _Tyreese_ had to be the one to tell her that Daryl was just _gone_ even as the sun was beginning to set and the Walkers outside the fences were raising the loudness of their grumbles and groans. Never mind the fact that she hadn't told him that she was struck momentarily terrified by the thought of delivering a baby, a baby she wouldn't even be expecting without _him_. Never mind all of that, because he had _yelled_ at _her_ because he didn't want to answer to anyone, he didn't owe anyone an explanation. Daryl Dixon was his own man, and he owed nothing to anyone, and that much he had made clear.

Carol sat up then, waking Michonne who looked around disoriented for a moment. Michonne mumbled something that Carol couldn't understand, and she doubted for a moment that the woman even knew what she'd tried to mumble.

"He doesn't want to tell anyone where he's going," Carol said. "He doesn't have to tell anyone what he's doing. All that matters is that he _wants_ to do it."

Michonne sat up then, rubbing her eyes, still looking sleepy. She blinked at Carol a few times, but didn't say anything.

"He doesn't _want_ to answer to anyone," Carol said. Michonne continued to look at her, her eyebrows now knitting together a little. Carol crawled down to the bottom of the bunk and crawled over Michonne's legs. "Have you ever had to do anything that you didn't want to do?" She asked.

Michonne looked at her like she wasn't sure if she was supposed to answer. She stayed where she was, sitting in the bed.

"Nothing in this world makes any sense anymore!" Carol said. "Tell me! Have you had to do anything that you didn't _want_ to do since all of this happened?"

Michonne continued to look at her, but now she finally broke her silence.

"Of course," she said, her voice still rough with sleep.

"Exactly…right? I mean we have to do things we don't want to do. I've done a few things I'd rather not do," Carol said. "But he doesn't _want_ to tell me if he's going to up and leave? He wants to go hunting in the middle of the night? And where is he now? I don't know, because he doesn't want to tell me where he is."

Carol looked around eyed Daryl's crossbow leaning in the corner of the cell, propped against the chair. He'd been back since he'd left the night before, but now he was just gone again. She walked over and picked up the crossbow, turning back toward Michonne who was watching her.

"If he wants to just go hunting whenever he pleases and not tell anyone, that's fine, right? If he wants to be a free man who doesn't have to answer to anyone, that's fine, right? He doesn't owe anyone an explanation, least of all me," Carol said, raising her voice. The feeling welling up in her right now was one that she hadn't experienced in a long time. It was a boiling anger that she couldn't quite swallow down. "Well that's just _FINE!_"

Carol took the crossbow and threw it out the cell door. It clanked outside and slid across the floor outside and Michonne jumped.

"Carol, maybe you should calm down," Michonne said softly. Carol turned back toward her.

"I'm going to have a baby," Carol said. Michonne nodded at her slowly. "I'm going to have to carry a baby, and I'm going to have to deliver it, and I'm going to have to take care of it and try to keep it alive for the rest of my life!"

Carol walked over and snatched open one of the drawers. She fumbled through and took up an arm full of the clothes that belonged to Daryl.

"That's OK, though," Carol ranted, "because that's what I _want_ to do, right? We all do what we _want _around here."

She stuck her body through the slit in the curtain long enough to fling the clothes out onto the floor and turned back to pick the rest out of the drawer.

"You want some breakfast?" Michonne asked quietly. "How about I go see about getting us some breakfast," she said. She got out of the bed and started toward the door of the cell. "I'm going to get my clothes and then I'll go get us both a plate. You just stay here and…do whatever you're doing."

"I'm doing what I _want_ to do!" Carol said turning around. Michonne held her hands up.

"That's good, just keep doing that. I want to go get us both something to eat," Michonne said. Carol stopped digging in the drawers for a moment.

"Good, that's a great idea. I'll do what I want to do, and you do what you want to do, and he can do whatever the hell he wants to do," she said. Michonne nodded at her and ducked out of the cell.

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Daryl was in the back of the breakfast line, waiting for his breakfast when Michonne came quickly into the room, looking a little less put together than she normally did, and bypassed the line completely, walking straight to Karen who was handing out plates of breakfast.

"I need two plates," Michonne said.

"There's a line," Karen said shortly.

"Listen, I've got a half crazed hormonal woman on my hands," Michonne said irritably, "just give me the food."

"There's a line," Karen repeated. "No one here is special enough to just go to the front of the line, not even you."

Alice, who was standing near the front of the line behind Melodye spoke up then.

"Come here, samurai, you can get in front of me," she said.

Michonne huffed and walked over in front of Alice.

"That's breaking the line," Karen said.

"Who the fuck are you, the soup nazi?" Alice said. "Are we in fucking kindergarten? If you made it then it's just lumpy fucking oatmeal and some fucking jerky, for fuck's sake." Alice turned around, regarding the rest of them. "Is there anybody here that's just going to fucking fall over dead in the next three minutes if the ninja gets a couple of plates of food first? No? Well Ok then."

Karen glared at her as Michonne stepped forward and took the two plates offered to her. Michonne stepped out of the line and Daryl left his spot, stepping forward quickly to catch her.

"Ya takin' her breakfast?" He asked.

"Yes, I am," Michonne said. "Maybe if I can get her to eat she'll calm down a little."

"Fuck," he spat. "Is she fuckin' cryin' again?"

"No…" Michonne said, "but she's upset. I'd advise you to stay away for a bit."

"Why?" Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes. "What the hell am I supposed ta do?"

"I don't know what you want to do," Michonne said, "but if you're looking for something to keep you occupied, you might want to start figuring out how to put your crossbow back together. I'm not sure how much of it survived the impact." She turned then and started back toward the cell.

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Michonne dodged a quiver of arrows that came through the slit in the blanket and waited a second before making her way over the pile of things and back through the hole. Carol was somewhat circling the cell at this point, as though she were checking to make sure that she hadn't forgotten anything.

"I'm keeping his pillows," she said when she noticed Michonne come in.

"Seems fair," Michonne said, sitting down on the bed, balancing the two plates of food. "Sit down, have some breakfast."

"I don't feel like eating," Carol said.

"No, you might not," Michonne said, "but I'm sure the baby does. And as much as you may not like it, you have to things that the baby needs you to do, so come on and sit. I'll help you throw whatever is left of his out when you're done if you like."

"I need to go for a walk," Carol said. Michonne nodded at her.

"We can do that too, just as soon as you eat your breakfast. I'm not having you passing out in the courtyard. Sit," she commanded.

Carol came to the bed and sat down, accepting the plate from Michonne. She took a bite of oatmeal.

"This is awful," Carol said through a full mouth.

Michonne snickered.

"It was better when you were cooking it, that much is for sure," she said. "At least you stirred it. Now I feel like they ought to serve the oatmeal with a knife just so you can cut the lumps into bite sized pieces."

Carol laughed at that, nearly spewing the mouthful of oatmeal that she had.

"Don't choke. I don't know the Heimlich and these lumps won't go down without chewing," Michonne said, her own mouth full at this point.

They sat there in silence, eating for a few minutes.

"Michonne," Carol said finally, her voice sounding calmer.

"Yeah?" Michonne asked. She was glad that the woman beside her was calming down, and thankful that she wasn't crying. She'd been furious, that much was true, but at least it wasn't crying, and it did everyone good sometimes to have a tantrum or two, especially when so much of their lives was outside of their control.

"I could do this on my own, couldn't I? I mean have the baby…Could I do this on my own?" Carol asked.

Michonne looked at her and her face showed clearly that the question was a genuine one. Michonne wasn't sure what to tell her. Sure, she _could_ do it on her own, Michonne had no doubt about that, but she also knew that she wasn't going to have to do it on her own. Daryl was going to have a heart attack when he saw that everything he owned was thrown haphazardly into the hallway. Finally, Michonne nodded, scraping up what was left of her oatmeal.

"Yeah, you could do it on your own, but you're not going to. You've got me, and you've got everyone else around here…except maybe Karen," Michonne paused remembering the bitterness with which Karen had given her the plates. "And you've got Daryl. He's not going anywhere, I think he just doesn't quite know how to deal with the situation yet."

"I could though, if he didn't come around," Carol said, "I could do this."

Michonne nodded again.

"You could do this," she said. She sat there for a minute, watching Carol as she obviously struggled with something. Still, though, her face showed no signs of breaking down and crying. Right now it was marked more with deep concern. "When I was pregnant with my second daughter," Michonne said with a sigh, "my husband decided to start cheating on me." She paused a minute, remembering back to a time that she hadn't especially wanted to recall. "He couldn't handle it, he said, the two babies at once. We didn't plan for it to happen, but shit happens. I kicked him out, and at first, I thought I couldn't do it, but then you figure out that you're made of a lot more than you think you are."

Michonne got up and took Carol's empty plate.

"And you, Carol, are made of a lot more than you think you are," Michonne said. "I'm going to take the dishes back. Get dressed. We're going for a walk."

Michonne left the cell, noticing that all of Daryl's stuff was still in the hallway, except for his crossbow and the quiver of arrows that she'd dodged earlier.


	35. Chapter 35

**AN: Y'all are so wonderful! I love you all! I'm so glad to see that so many of you are really interested in the story!**

**So here's another little part to what's going on between our (most of the time) love birds. I'll give a little warning on this chapter for very heavy language. **

**I hope you enjoy! **

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Daryl was finally satisfied that his crossbow wasn't broken, though it certainly wasn't better for the wear. He was hiding out in his old cell right now, trying to figure out what to do, what he was supposed to do. When he'd gotten back to the cell he'd found his crossbow under a pile of what he soon discovered to be everything else that he owned. He'd started collecting up the pile, trying to figure out what was going on, when he'd overheard Carol and Michonne talking about the baby.

Carol wasn't crying anymore, and for that he had been relieved momentarily, but then he'd heard her ask Michonne if she could have the baby alone, and what was worse, Michonne had confirmed that she could. And Daryl had stood there, everything that he had on the floor around him. Now Carol was thinking about having the baby alone. She wanted to have _his_ baby alone, without him.

He fucked everything up. He always had, and now he'd gone and fucked this up too. He wanted to be a better dad than his old man had been, but now Carol didn't even want him around. He'd really outdone himself. He'd managed to fuck up being a dad before he even got to see the kid. He wasn't even sure that Carol was pregnant, beyond the fact that everyone told him she was and Alice had made him push around in her stomach to feel something she said was a baby, though it hadn't felt anything like he'd thought a baby should feel. And already he'd fucked up and its mama didn't even want him around.

Daryl stayed for a while in the cell, sitting on the bare bunk, thinking about the situation. He wasn't sure what to do, or what he was _supposed_ to do in this situation. He'd been worried about the fact that he couldn't take care of Carol. He couldn't protect her and he couldn't protect the baby. Nothing he did was ever going to be enough to guarantee that they were both safe, that he wouldn't lose them.

And now it seemed like he'd lost both of them, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

Daryl shouldered his crossbow and left the old cell that he'd once stayed in, but that now he didn't want to be in for any reason. He went back to the cell that he'd shared with Carol, his things still littering the hallway. No one had picked them up. He ducked his head into the cell, expecting to find Carol on the bed, maybe doing puzzles in a book, or maybe reading, or maybe even sobbing about the fact that she'd thrown all of his things out, but she wasn't in there. The cell was empty.

Daryl turned and headed out the prison. Just as he stepped into the courtyard, he ran almost into Rick. Rick's eyebrows were knitted together.

"Now do you want to talk about it?" Rick asked suddenly.

Daryl eyed him and chewed at his thumbnail. What would Rick know about this anyway?

"Ain't nothin' ta talk about," Daryl said.

Rick sighed, shook his head, and walked past Daryl into the prison. Daryl looked back, watching him disappear through the door. As he started through the courtyard, he spotted Michonne walking backwards along the fence line, talking to Carol. Carol was walking along, smiling, and stopping every now and again to tug at the weeds that rose almost to her chest in places.

Daryl sighed and started in the direction of the two women. He had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew that he had to say something.

As Daryl reached the two women, Carol saw him first. She stopped smiling. She crossed her arms against her chest, looking at him, and then she turned her head, glancing off to the side. Michonne, too, had stopped and was standing a few paces from Carol, watching them.

"We need ta talk," Daryl said as he approached.

"Do we?" Carol asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Why'd ya throw all my shit outta our cell?" Daryl asked.

"My cell," Carol said. "I threw _your_ shit out of _my _cell, Daryl."

Daryl was annoyed.

"Why'd ya do that, Carol?" He asked.

"You need your freedom, Daryl," she said, shifting her weight to one side and tilting her head. "It's much easier for you to have your freedom when I'm not getting in your way."

Daryl sighed.

"Look, Carol, I know why you're mad," he said.

"Do you?" Carol asked. "Why am I mad, Daryl?"

"You're mad 'cause I went huntin' last night an' didn't tell ya I was goin', an' I'm sorry I made ya mad, OK? Can I put my stuff back in the cell now?" Daryl asked.

"No, Daryl, because that's _not_ why I'm mad, at least not all of it," Carol said. Daryl could hear Carol's voice crack a little and he stepped closer. She held her hand up and out toward him, as though she intended to push him away if he got close to her. "Don't!" She said.

Daryl stepped back. He was trying not to let his annoyance get the best of him. He wanted to fix this and move his things back into the cell and be done with it, but it didn't appear that Carol was going to make that as easy for him as he wanted. His head, still pounding from the night before, was even worse now. He squeezed at his temple.

"Then why ya mad?" Daryl asked finally.

Carol swallowed hard, she crossed her arms back across her chest.

"Daryl, if you don't know why I'm mad, then you need to go somewhere and think about it. Or you need to go and you need to talk to someone who can help you figure it out…" her voice started to rise then, "or you need to go traipsing off to the woods and ask the squirrels who seem to be so damn important to you why I'm mad because I don't want to talk about it, and if there's one thing I know right now it's that we don't have to do _anything _that we don't want to do!" By the time she finished, Carol was nearly shouting at him.

Daryl felt his frustration now turning more to anger. He wanted to talk to Carol about what was going on. He wanted her not to be angry at him, and now she was yelling at him out here where anyone could see? After everything that he'd done to try and make sure that she was fine, that the baby was fine, that they were going to get through everything that had happened, she thought she could have him by the balls in front of everyone?

"Man, I don't need this!" Daryl yelled back at her. "I don't need ya talkin' ta me like I'm stupid, just 'cause ya so damn crazy that can't nobody understand what the hell is wrong with ya half the damn time!"

"Whoa, daddy! That's about enough of that!" Daryl heard Alice's voice behind him and he felt a hand curl around his arm. He turned quickly and found Alice there.

"Get your fuckin' hands off me!" Daryl yelled at her.

"I'll do that, just as soon as you decide to calm the fuck down, you hot headed asshole," Alice yelled back at him. "Yo, samurai, think ya can get mama bear out of her and go for a little stroll? I'll take care of him."

Daryl turned back a minute to see Michonne walking away very quickly with her arm around Carol's shoulder. He turned back to Alice.

"Why the fuck can't ya mind ya own fuckin' business, lady?" Daryl yelled at her.

"Character flaw," Alice responded. "Now you're the one that needs to simmer the fuck down."

Daryl had never wanted to hit a woman in his life more than he wanted to hit Alice at this particular moment. He stepped forward a little, but Alice didn't back up.

"You want to hit me?" She asked. "Because you can, but just remember that as soon as you do you'll be wearing your balls as earrings."

Daryl stopped, glaring at her. She stood there, looking right back at him.

"Now, do you think you can stop acting like you're training for the asshole Olympics and tell me what the fuck is going on here? You might be surprised, I might fucking be able to help you. I've had a little practice with women in my life," Alice said.

"I ain't done a damn thing," Daryl said. "She's thrown all my fuckin' clothes outta the cell an' she's all talkin' ta Michonne like she ain't wantin' me ta have nothin' ta do with her an' the baby, an' that's my kid!"

"Damn straight that's your kid," Alice said, "but we really want that kid to bake for about six more months, OK? And her blood pressure is through the roof anyway. So how about we refrain from fighting with each other like this is Jerry Springer, ya feel me?"

"This whole damn thing is your fuckin' fault!" Daryl said.

"OK," Alice said. "I'll take your misplaced anger. Tell me, then, why is this whole thing my fault?"

"Ya freaked her the fuck out yesterday!" Daryl yelled. "Ya had ta go runnin' ya damn mouth about her havin' the baby an' she freaked out again, an' I can't fuckin' fix it! I can't fix none a' this shit! I can't tell her that every fuckin' thing is gonna be OK 'cause I don't fuckin' know how ta make it OK an' it's all your fuckin' fault!"

"She _does_ have to have the baby!" Alice yelled back, flapping her arms at her sides in frustration. "That's how babies work, you asshole! It's like everything in else in the human body, what goes in must come the fuck out! If that freaks her out, that's _fine_! She's got every reason to be freaked out about it. I'd be fucking running around here losing my _shit_ if I was in her shoes! And you know what? You can't fix it! There's not a damn thing you can do about it. There's not a damn thing any of us can do about it! The most you can do is run around behind her while she's fucking losing her shit and pick it the fuck up for her! That's not why she's pissed the fuck off, so why is she pissed the fuck off?"

Daryl backed up as the brunette took a step toward him.

"She's pissed 'cause I went huntin' an' didn't tell her I was goin' huntin'!" Daryl yelled back at her.

"Then that's what the fuck the problem is!" Alice yelled in response. "You don't go just trotting off in the middle of the fucking apocalypse without telling a single fucking soul what you're doing! If I did that Melodye would have already run my ass all the way around this yard four fucking times with a baseball bat, and she's not even pregnant, you asshole!"

"Don't call me an asshole!" Daryl bellowed. "You're one damn annoying bitch!"

"I already fucking told you that it's a character flaw!" Alice screamed. "There's a lot of shit that you can't fix right now, and I'm just too damn sorry if you don't like that, but you're not God. None of us can fix half the things we want to fix. We couldn't do it before and we sure as fuck can't do it now! This, though, _this_ is something you _can_ fix if you think you can get your head out of your ass long enough to get some air!"

Daryl stopped for a minute. He was out of breath, and he was tired, and his head was pounding. The brunette in front of him in the field was panting too. She swiped at her forehead with the back of her arm, but stood firmly squared in front of him as though she expected to have to wrestle with him at any given moment.

The two of them stood there a minute, both just breathing and regarding the other.

"How the hell am I s'posed ta fix this?" Daryl asked, finally calming a little.

"Well," Alice said, her voice lowered as well, "things aren't quite what they used to be, but you're so fond of traipsing around outside I suggest you go hunt down some flowers, or hope you stumble across some kind of exotic bush that grows chocolate or something. Go find some kind of suitable peach offering, and while you're out there, you better start thinking up exactly how you want to go about apologizing for what you've done. I'd start with something like 'hey I'm sorry that I'm a hot headed asshole who didn't think that maybe you didn't want a healthy dose of abandonment issues to go with everything else you've got going in your fucking life right now', but I'm just improvising."

Daryl started to say something in protest, but he didn't.

"Then I'd bring back whatever the hell you can get, and I'd march in there and I'd give her my apology, and I'd promise that I wasn't going to be such an insensitive jerk-face again, and I'd ask her if she'd take me the fuck back, even though I probably didn't deserve it because I loved her and I wanted to do the right fucking thing for my kid. Then I'd sit there and I'd take every damn thing she wanted to say to me, whether she wanted to cry or scream or throw things, until she calmed the fuck down. Then I sure as shit wouldn't just go running away from her again," Alice said.

"She's crazy all the time," Daryl said. "I don't know how to fix everything she's got going on. I can't even fix one thing 'fore she starts cryin' 'bout somethin' else."

Alice laughed a little then.

"Then stop trying to fix it. Sometimes she doesn't need to have things fixed. You're her husband, or her partner, or her whatever the fuck you are. Women don't always want you to fix things, sometimes they just want you to be there. The samurai has been with her since last night, do you think she's fixed even one problem while you were off being a pain in the ass? No! She didn't fix anything, and yet Carol was out here today, laughing and walking around, looking better than she even looked yesterday. Why? Because no one was trying to fix anything! Just let her be! Let her go crazy when she needs to go crazy, and then let her be good when she feels good. She just needs you to fucking _be there_, not to fix things. Holy hell, I'm sure she didn't think you were Mr. Fix-It when she picked you!" Alice ranted.

"So I'm just s'posed ta sit back an' let her do shit like throw all my shit outta the cell without even tellin' me why she's pissed, an' I'm s'posed ta let her just yell at me ta go fuckin' talk ta squirrels, an' then I'm s'posed ta go in there an' say I'm the only asshole?" Daryl asked, still irritated.

Alice laughed again.

"You know what, for the next six months, you're damn right you are. And I tell you what, when you get pregnant and you've got an alien life form living in your gut, giving you far more hormones than you know what to do with, and promising to feng shui your organs for the next nine months before forcing its way out of the head of your dick, I'll make sure that she puts up with your shit the whole time we're waiting, we got a deal?" She responded.

Daryl chewed at his thumb and stared at Alice.

"And one more thing," Alice said, "next time you have those things that you don't seem to be able to handle without stomping and snorting like a prized bull, you know…_feelings_…why don't you just try talking to her? Tell her that you're scared about the baby, tell her that you're worried about her having the baby, tell her that you feel like you want to fix a problem, but you don't know how. I bet she'll understand. I bet she won't even act half as crazy, and I bet you'll both feel a lot better and I won't even have to break a sweat in the middle of a field, and neither will you."

"I ain't scared!" Daryl spat.

Alice smiled.

"Sure you are, and that's OK. There's nothing wrong with being scared. I'd be more worried if you weren't. I promise you, your balls won't shrivel up and fall off if you admit that you're scared of something. It's medically impossible, as much as you might not believe me." She responded.

Daryl really didn't know what he was supposed to do, but he did feel better at the moment. He at least felt calmer and less like he was crazy like he had the night before. Now, though, he had another problem. Carol was mad, and she was probably even angrier since he'd snapped at her. He hadn't meant to do it, and he honestly felt terrible for it. It had just sort of boiled out before he'd even known it was coming. He supposed the only thing to do now was to try and take the brunette's advice and find something to offer her as a peace offering. He needed something to soften the blow when he tried to apologize to her.

He hoped that he could figure out how to do this, and that he could figure out what to say that might convince her to let him back into the cell. He didn't want his freedom, as Carol had suggested he did. What he really wanted was to make it up to her and to get back into the cell with her, and with the baby.

"Feel better?" Alice said after a few minutes. Daryl was snapped out of his thoughts, having forgotten that she was standing there.

He grunted, but didn't really respond.

"Me too," she said, smiling. "I feel invigorated. I think I'm going to go give that Karen bitch a little hell for her attitude at breakfast. You go get something for your woman, and I'll make sure that everyone knows you just stepped out to get something and you'll be right back."

Daryl nodded at her and watched as she bounded back across the courtyard and toward the prison. He sighed and shifted his crossbow a little. A short walk would probably do him good, and he hoped he could find some pretty flowers or something growing that might make Carol consider letting him back in and forgiving him. He didn't want to admit it, but he was really scared that she might not love him after this, and he wasn't really sure that any amount of flowers could get love back if it got lost somewhere along the way.

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**AN: OK, so now our couple has a little talking to do and hopefully a little making up. ;-)**

What do you think? Should I try to finish a third before I call it quits for the day?


	36. Chapter 36

**AN: So here you go…our couple has to have a make up scene (at least for this problem, right?). **

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I'm really thrilled. I can't believe there's almost 300 reviews on this fic already! I'm amazed. You're all great! **

**I hope you enjoy and I hope I did them justice!**

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Daryl made his way back through the prison yard clutching the bundle of half wilted wild flowers. They were a sorry prize by any stretch of the imagination, but the encroaching cold weather wasn't leaving him with much to go on by way of an apology. He had wandered all around, hoping mostly to stumble upon some Cherokee Roses, but he had only come up with the sad bundle of assorted wildflowers. He wouldn't blame Carol if that, coupled with the probably pathetic apology that he had mustered up, didn't exactly move her to forgiveness.

Most everyone was gathered, it seemed, around the courtyard entertaining themselves in various ways. Daryl kept his eyes down and tried not to look at any of them. He didn't want them staring at him as he walked toward the prison, praying that somehow he didn't fuck this up.

When Daryl got outside of the cell he saw that all of his things were still there, scattered in the hallway. No one had moved them. In fact, it looked as though most of the stuff had been repeatedly trampled on.

"Can I come in?" Daryl asked, stopping outside the slit in the blanket.

"Come in," Carol's voice called.

Daryl ducked into the blanket. Carol was sitting on the bed, an open book now lying across her leg. She looked at him expectantly.

"I brought ya some flowers," he said, holding up the sad bouquet of wildflowers. He reached forward, offering them to her.

Carol sat still for a moment, and then finally she leaned up, accepting the flowers from him.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"I looked for ya some better ones, but they ain't hardly nothin' growin' right now on account a' it's getting' cold," he said.

Carol looked at the wildflowers. She looked just about as sad as the wilting blossoms did, and Daryl felt his chest tighten.

"I'm real sorry, Carol, and I know why ya mad at me," he said.

Carol looked up at him, but she didn't say anything.

"Ya mad 'cause ya thought I was abandonin' ya an' I shoulda told ya I was goin' out huntin'," Daryl said.

Something in Carol's face changed and Daryl thought it looked like she might start crying, but she didn't.

"An' now ya prob'ly mad 'cause I said ya was crazy an' can't no one understand ya," Daryl continued. He hoped that she'd give him some indication that he was getting anywhere with this because at the moment he felt like he was floundering.

"Anything else?" Carol asked. She didn't move from her position. Her voice was soft, but Daryl didn't like the sound of the question. It sounded like a question that was indicating that he hadn't said the right thing. He hadn't apologized correctly. Suddenly he felt a little like he couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to say, and Carol didn't love him anymore, and his apology and the sad batch of wildflowers weren't enough to get it back. He was suddenly desperate for anything that would make her reconsider.

"I don't want'cha ta tell me I gotta leave," Daryl said. "I know I was an ass an' ya prob'ly don't want me around, but I ain't gon' leave ya. I ain't gonna leave ya 'cause I'm mad…I ain't gonna leave ya 'cause no damn girl comes around flauntin' what the hell she's got like ya always afraid of…I ain't even gonna leave ya if ya tell me I can't stay here. I'm gonna go right out there an' I'm gonna stay in that damn hallway 'til ya let me back in or 'til I fuckin' rot out there, 'cause I ain't gon' leave."

"Are you crying, Daryl?" Carol asked suddenly.

"No I ain't fuckin' cryin'," Daryl said, wiping at his eyes.

Carol got up from the bed and slowly came over to him. He looked at her, tears were filling her eyes, and her face was drawn up like she was trying not to cry with everything she had in her. She swallowed hard.

"I don't want you to cry," she said. Daryl could hear her voice quivering. "I just want you to understand, Daryl. I want you to know that I love you and I'm afraid every time that you leave those gates that you'll never come back through them, and I don't want you leaving them angry with me for something I've done, like you were yesterday, and then I don't even know if I'll get to make it up to you. And now, Daryl, now we've got a baby on the way, and if you leave, then I'm alone in this, and I don't want to be alone in this because you decided to just run off one day."

Daryl reached out and wiped at the tears rolling down her cheek with his thumbs.

"I didn't mean ta make ya scared," he said. "I didn't leave 'cause I was mad at ya."

"Then why did you leave, Daryl? Why didn't you tell me you were going?" Carol asked. "I wouldn't have told you that you couldn't go hunting. I know you need to go hunting, I just didn't know where you were or why you left."

"I left 'cause I was scared," Daryl said finally. He expected Carol to look at him as though she were shocked, but she didn't. She just kept staring at him like she was waiting for him to go on. "I knew ya was scared about the baby 'cause Alice asked ya 'bout it gettin' born an' I didn't know how ta fix it. I ain't got no idea how ta fix most a' the stuff that scares ya."

Carol looked at him then, and almost smiled. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. He couldn't figure out what she found so amusing right now.

"Daryl," she said softly, "I never thought you _could_ fix those kinds of things. I never expected you too. Yeah, I panicked about the baby being born, but I didn't think you could fix that. It's just something that has to happen, and unfortunately, it has to happen to me. My panic didn't have anything to do with you, though."

"I wanta fix those things for ya," Daryl said. Carol smiled again, except now she was smiling and crying all at the same time and Daryl was even more confused.

"Daryl, you want to fix those things for me because you love me, and I think that's the most wonderful thing in the world, but I know you can't fix them, no matter how much you might want to," Carol said. "Beyond anything, Daryl…" she paused, swallowing again, "beyond anything that you could fix or even want to fix…I just need to know that you're going to be there for me…_with_ me."

"So ya mean ya still want me with ya?" Daryl asked.

Carol sighed, wiping her eyes. She turned around and went back to the bed to sit down on the edge of it.

"Of course I still want you with me, Daryl," she said. "But I want to know that you're in this, and that you're really in it. If I have to do this by myself, then that's fine, I'll do what I have to do, but I can't handle the not knowing. I can't handle you just running out whenever it gets to be too much for you because then I've got to deal with whatever was too much for you and I've got to deal with the fact that you left."

"So then ya still love me?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked at him. She chuckled.

"Jesus, Daryl, of course I still love you. You don't just stop loving someone once you love them!" She said.

"Then ya gonna let me come back in the cell?" Daryl asked.

Carol had her elbows on her legs and her face in her hands now. She sat there for a minute before propping her face up, looking at him. She sighed again.

"Yes, Daryl, you can come back into the cell, but if you come back in then I want you to promise me that you're dedicated to this. If you want to leave, that's fine, but you've got to tell me where you're going, and if you get scared of something or you feel like there's something you can't fix, then you've just got to tell me, not run away from me." Carol said.

Daryl sat down on the side of the bed beside Carol. He reached an arm out and circled it around her shoulders, pulling her against him. She wrapped her arms around him, her face against his chest.

"I can do that," he said. "Ya think if ya pissed at me then ya could tell me why ya pissed instead a' throwin' all my shit in the hallway next time?"

Carol snorted and buried her face in his chest for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I won't throw your things out of the cell again without telling you why I'm doing it."

Carol pulled away from him then and Daryl cupped her cheek with one hand, tipping her face toward him. He leaned in and kissed her. For a moment she didn't respond, but finally she accepted his tongue, returning the kiss full force.

"I guess we've still got to learn how to talk to each other," Carol said when they parted.

"I reckon so," Daryl said.

"Get your stuff, bring it back in here. After you put everything away, if there's time before dinner, maybe we can spend a little time together…" Carol said.

Daryl regarded her a moment. The look in her eyes was one that he was more than familiar with. It was the kind of sleepy, kind of drunk look that she got when she was thinking about something else. Daryl was surprised that she would be giving him that look now, when she'd only this morning been tossing him out of her life for good. He smiled, though, and got up. He went outside the cell and started collecting up the clothes and things that were scattered around. He could hear the sound of people, around doing whatever they were doing, but at the moment he didn't care.

Daryl came back into the cell with his arms full. He carefully pulled open the top drawer, careful not to drop anything he was holding, and then let the pile of clothes drop down on top of it. He started stuffing the contents into the drawer as tightly as he could.

"Daryl!" Carol said from the bed. He turned to look at her.

"What?" He asked.

"You know that's not how your clothes were in those drawers," Carol said.

Daryl looked at the door that he had about half closed. Pieces of clothing stuck out around the edge, but he was pretty sure that if he stuffed them down it would close completely.

"No," he said, "but that's how they was in the hall."

"Fold them up like they're supposed to be," Carol said. "I already folded them once when you moved in here, I'm not doing it again."

Daryl wanted to protest that the clothes wouldn't need to be folded at all if she hadn't thrown them out of the cell in the first place, but he decided that was only likely to start another fight, and he didn't feel like having to go through that again. He knew, though, that if he was going to have to fold them up they'd never get to do anything before supper. He hated folding, and he was slow at it, and it wouldn't be too long before someone came through the prison announcing that it was time to eat.

Daryl pulled the clothes back out of the drawer and piled them on the bed. Carol sat on the bed and watched him messily folding the clothes and putting them in a pile to the side. He thought she'd offer to help him, but she didn't. She just watched him quietly. Finally, when he'd finished, he picked up the piles and put them back into the drawers, closing the drawers in a satisfied manner.

He came back to the bed then and took off his boots. He crawled up the bed and over her legs, straddling her, pushing her back on the bed and kissing her. She returned the kiss and ran her hands inside his shirt and over his chest, pulling his shirt up to give her better access. He kissed her jaw and made his way down to her neck, his hands on either side of her at the moment, holding him up.

"Dinner!" He heard Maggie call, as though the rumble of voices didn't already announce that everyone was gathering in anticipation of the meal. Daryl ignored the call and continued to kiss at Carol's neck, wishing the shirt that she was wearing was more like the dress she'd had on the day before and gave him easier access to her shoulders.

"Daryl, it's time to eat," Carol said.

"In a minute," Daryl said. He came back up and his mouth found hers again. For a second she kissed him, their tongues wrestling lazily with each other. Daryl felt himself already growing aroused at the prospect of what was coming next.

"Let's get dinner," Carol said when they broke apart.

Daryl hovered over her, looking down at her.

"Ya serious?" He asked. They hadn't even started taking off their clothes yet, and already she was thinking about other things.

"I'm hungry," she said. "I didn't eat lunch."

Daryl's own stomach rumbled in response to the thought. He hadn't eaten lunch either. It had been too busy of a day and he'd spent most of it wandering around the area outside of the prison looking for the wildflowers, which were really just colorful weeds, which he was pretty sure they were lying on top of on the bed.

"Come on," Carol said, her hands out of his shirt now and pushing against his chest. "Let's get something to eat and then we can come back."

Daryl didn't move for a minute. He was aroused, and he really didn't relish the thought of giving up his position here so soon after he'd earned it. He was also positive that whenever they did go to get dinner everyone would be staring at them. He doubted the details of their fight were lost on anyone at the prison. Judith probably even knew about all that had happened in the last two days.

"Why don't we skip supper," Daryl suggested. "We can get some breakfast in the mornin'."

Carol giggled.

"Daryl! Let's go get dinner. I have to eat," she said.

Daryl sighed. He leaned down to kiss her again, hoping to distract her. She returned the kiss, but only briefly before pulling away again, still essentially pinned below him on the mattress.

"Daryl, dinner," she said. "It's going to taste bad enough as it is, we don't want to get it cold too."

Daryl huffed and moved off of her. She started to sit up and he shoved his feet back into his boots, tying the laces quickly and then he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Don't pout," Carol said. She sat up on her knees on the bed and leaned over, pulling his face toward her. She kissed him again, slowly, and it was all he could do not to push her back down onto the bed again. She pulled away from him finally. "We'll go and get some food, and then when we're done we can spend the rest of the night together."

Daryl sighed.

"Fine, but ya stay here. I'll go bring us some plates back. Ya can at least eat with ya shirt off, that's what the hell I hung the blanket for, ain't it?" Daryl said.

Carol smiled at him.

"Fine, Daryl. If you'll go bring us back some dinner, I'll eat with my shirt off, if that makes you happy," she said.

Daryl smiled at her. He hadn't imagined she would really agree to it, but if she was going to agree to it then he was more than happy to go wait in line to bring them some plates back.

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While Daryl took the dishes back after dinner, Carol stripped out of her clothes. She folded them and placed them on the chair near the door of the cell where Daryl would likely sling his later. She cleaned off the bed, smiling a little even as she raked the wilted weeds into the trashcan. He had meant well. He'd tried to find her flowers to say that he was sorry, and she was sure that he truly was.

Today had been the first time that she thought she had ever seen Daryl Dixon cry. Sure, it hadn't been some kind of bawling fit, but there _had_ been tears in his eyes whether or not he would ever admit it.

She knew that Daryl had a lot of issues. He had a lot of issues before the world had come crashing to halt and the dead had decided to amble about, but he had a lot more issues now. She also knew that Daryl knew nothing about feelings or how to express them, and he certainly knew nothing about what he should do with his feelings for her. She could see that now. Daryl's feelings for her were beyond his understanding.

Daryl Dixon was a simple, straightforward, tactile man. He understood what he could see, touch, taste, hear, and smell. If it was beyond his five senses, though, he was left somewhat lost.

Carol could understand that to some degree. She didn't have so much a problem admitting to her feelings as he did, but she knew that she had a problem trusting them at times. His had been dormant, or at least stuffed away before. Hers had betrayed her. They'd told her that a man loved her who never really had. They'd put her in a position where she'd been ruled by that man. Her feelings had lied to her, and then she'd responded by cramming them back so that they couldn't hurt her anymore.

And now here she was. She had more feelings right now than she knew what to do with. She had feelings that she wasn't positive she'd ever had before, and some that she thought she'd never really have again. And on top of that, she had these feelings for a man who had absolutely no idea what to do with the feelings that he was having since they were almost foreign to him.

Perhaps she'd been too easy on Daryl, or perhaps she'd been too hard on him. She could see both arguments, depending on the angle that she considered the situation with. She had, however, been just as hard as she'd wanted to be, and it gave her yet another feeling that she hadn't had before in her life. It gave her the feeling of being in charge, however briefly, in her relationship with a man. She had decided today what was satisfactory and what wasn't. She had been the one to outline for Daryl what conduct she was willing to tolerate and to forgive, and what she expected to be changed if he wanted to stay with her…and he had responded that he wanted to change. He wanted to change whatever was necessary to stay with her. He'd willingly handed over that control.

Carol got into bed, pulling the blankets up over her. She lie there, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for him to reappear through the blanket. The thing about power and control, which she was just now learning for herself, was that it was a wonderful feeling to have, but it wasn't something that needed to be exercised too much. She had already decided that when Daryl came into the cell, she was going to give it back to him for a while. He'd looked at her while they ate as though he was almost drunk with lust, and she was going to give him the control to do with that what he pleased. She didn't need it anymore right now.

Daryl came through the blanket and his eyes fell on her, lying in the bed under the blankets. She smiled at him and he grinned back. She watched as he undressed himself, tossing his clothes over the chair. She studied him, appreciating his body, disbelieving for a moment that he was even real. It seemed impossible to believe that a man as perfect as he was, although slightly flawed at times, was a man that loved her. Even if he did things like upset her by leaving the day before, she still considered him as close to perfect as any man that she'd ever known, and he was here asking her permission to join her in bed. This very same man, with rippling muscles and a mischievous grin, was the man that earlier had handed the power over to her willingly.

Carol lifted up the cover and Daryl slipped under it, immediately finding the position that he'd relinquished earlier. Carol kissed him in response to his lips finding hers and she closed her eyes as his mouth explored her body. He was in control now, and she was more than happy to let him be. His mouth closed down around her nipple and sucked it, tugging it. She gasped with the feeling that shot through her, all the way to her core. As he moved his mouth to the other nipple, she felt his hand find her core, rubbing her and she involuntarily through her head back, trying to steady her breathing. His finger explored her and she felt a familiar burn building in her abdomen.

"Let go for me," Daryl growled in her ear before kissing her neck again, his hand continuing its assault on her core. She closed her eyes and felt herself fall over the edge. The shockwaves from her orgasm rolling through her.

When she opened her eyes, panting, he was hovering above her, smiling. He came down, kissing her hard. She responded with everything she had.

"I really am sorry," he said when he'd pulled away. "I mean it, I ain't leavin' ya for nothin'."

"I believe you," Carol panted. She smiled. "I'm sorry too."

He sat back between her legs for a moment and she felt his hands on her thighs, pushing them apart. He settled down onto her and entered her fully in one quick thrust. Her hands went quickly to his hips to steady them from his usually erratic movements.

"Ain't gon' hurt ya," he said, thrusting into her.

Carol moved her hands to his back and closed her eyes, enjoying the feelings that were coming over her. The pleasure was so overwhelming at the moment that she could ignore the still dull ache of ribs that hadn't fully healed. He moved inside her, his mouth exploring her breast, her neck, the side of her face, wherever his impulses led him, and her body responded back without even the necessity that she tell it to do so.

When she came again, he joined her, and they shook together. When he crawled off of her and settled beside her, pulling her back up against him, her body was still humming from the encounter and she was more relaxed than she could remember being in a while.

"I'm glad ya still love me," Daryl said, "even if I am an ass sometimes."

Carol smiled, even though he couldn't see it.

"I do love you, even when you are an ass," she said. "You love me even though I threw you out for a while?"

Daryl chuckled.

"'Course I love ya," he said. "Gotta love a woman with a little fire in her."

Carol smiled again and settled down into the pillow. She was feeling very sleepy all of a sudden and wanted to just let herself drift off in his arms.

"Next time, though, you reckon ya could do without throwin' my crossbow?" Daryl asked.

Carol snickered.

"I suppose that I can consider not throwing your crossbow next time," she said.

In response, Daryl kissed her shoulder and pulled her back to him, hugging her tightly.

"Thanks for lettin' me back in," he said. "'Cause I woulda hated ta have ta sleep in the hall."

"I'll always let you back in," Carol said, "but if you pull the same stunt again I _will_ make you sleep in the hall for a little while."


	37. Chapter 37

**AN: So we have a short time jump from the last chapter as we move on to the next little piece of our story. As always, I thank you all for reading and reviewing. I'm glad to see that so many people are enjoying the story and I hope you continue to enjoy it! **

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The next few weeks passed fairly quickly for everyone. Winter was rolling in and there was no doubt about that. Things had to be done in order for them to even dream of surviving the winter. They'd been slowly progressing through the prison, cleaning more and more of the area, with still so much more to be cleaned up, which meant more space, but it also meant that there were more walls to patch, more holes in the roof that needed patches, and more Walkers to be carried out and burned.

In addition, Maggie and Glenn had been frequently leaving the prison with a delivery truck that they'd stolen from a nearby town in search of supplies. If the winter was harsh and brought snow, they needed to be as well stocked as they could be, and with many of the neighboring areas being well scavenged by what were apparently several passing groups, it was necessary for them to go farther and farther out to bring back things they were going to need.

Alice had been an advocate for their return to the Governor's old lair in search of whatever they could scavenge from there, and there were repeated conversations about organizing a team to go in there and clear out as much as possible, though it hadn't actually been organized as of yet. Every day that it got colder, though, the conversation seemed to be taken more seriously by Rick and Daryl, under the insistence that rounding up the generators there could provide some well needed heat within the damp walls of the prison as the harsher climate began to take over.

Carol, for one, was beginning to feel better and better as time wore on. Though the memory of the Governor's torture chambers, or at least what she had of it, still loomed in her mind, she was putting it farther and farther out of her working memory. She'd begun to help with meals and laundry again, although not quite with the same enthusiasm that she once had, but she was working toward it.

Even Beth seemed to be doing a little better. She wasn't interacting with the group much at all, but she had formed an attachment to Melodye, and she would allow the woman to accompany her, at times, outside of the prison walls to walk around the yard. Carol had tried to talk to her once, but Beth had regarded her pretty much as she had the others. She wasn't interested in speaking to her much beyond the repeated insistence that she was fine and wanted to be left alone. Hershel and Maggie seemed to be the only two besides Melodye that could push through her walls most of the time.

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Carol rolled over and stretched. She knew that she was getting up late. Daryl had crawled over her much earlier, kissing her cheek and telling her that he was going hunting and to bring back rabbits. He'd set rabbit traps a few days before and Tyreese had built some hutches inside one of the cell blocks that they'd cleaned out. The goal was to keep the rabbits they caught as warm as possible in order to try to keep them breeding through the winter for meat. So far they had about eight rabbits, but Daryl was hopeful to get more. Game was extremely scarce these days, and everyone was beginning to fear that winter might be far leaner than they had anticipated.

Now she was becoming aware that it was her time to get up. She was sure that she'd missed breakfast already, and she no longer felt right leaving the others with all the work that had to be done. She sighed and reluctantly pushed back the covers on the bed. The chill in the cell hit her skin and goose bumps covered her.

Carol got out of the bed and pulled her nightgown over her head, dropping it on the bunk. She burrowed sleepily in her pile of clothes and came up with a pair of black elastic pants that Michonne had brought her. They were comfortable enough to be pajama pants, and she wore them fairly often, trying to make sure that they made it into the laundry as regularly as possible.

As Carol pulled the pants up, wondering which shirt she was going to pull on, her hand ghosted over her stomach. She stopped a moment and looked down, a little surprised. She rubbed her hand over her belly again.

_She was showing_.

Carol prodded at the small bulge with two of her fingers. It wasn't much, but it was there. What bothered her, though, was that she could have sworn it wasn't there the day before. She felt a little panicky for a moment. How could she have not noticed this? She suddenly wished there was a mirror in the cell, but there wasn't. She quickly dug into her pile of clothes and came up with one of the long sweaters. She tugged it on and looked down again. She could still see the bulge. The last time she wore this sweater she knew it hadn't been there. She peeled the sweater off again and pulled out a different one. It was oversized and much larger. The bulge was hardly noticeable except for just at one spot where the sweater hugged a little against it.

Carol ran her fingers through her hair, not quite sure why she felt as panicked as she did. She tugged at the bottom of the sweater, stretching it out so that it stopped hugging in that spot. She slipped her shoes on and walked in a small circle in the cell, trying to remember what it was that she was going to do before she noticed this anomaly with her body.

Finally she left the cell and started outside.

In the courtyard she found Alice and Karen sitting around the three large tubs that they used for laundry, a system that she had perfected to make it as efficient as possible. One tub was used for soaking the clothes, the second was where they were washed, and the third was used for rinsing them as clean as they could possibly get. Alice was sitting on a flipped over milk crate stirring the soaking clothes with a boat paddle. Karen was rinsing some clothes that would later be wrung out and hung up to dry.

Carol quickly crossed the yard to her, and Alice noticed her approach.

"Good mornin' mama!" Alice called out. "If you've got any desire whatsoever to hold onto your breakfast, don't come over here. It smells like dirty, sweaty, ass soup over here."

Carol ignored her. She'd been blessed through this pregnancy without little to no morning sickness, something she certainly couldn't say about when she'd been pregnant with Sophia. With the variety of smells around them, though, she was grateful for it or she might have spent most of her time vomiting.

"I need to talk to you," Carol called as she came closer.

"Sure, what's up?" Alice asked, continuing to stir at her dirty laundry stew.

Carol cast a glance at Karen and unconsciously tugged again at the sweater.

"I just need to talk to you," she said. "Alone…please?" She begged.

Karen cast her eyes over toward them, but didn't say anything. She was likely annoyed that Carol was late getting out there when she knew that laundry day went much smoother when there was at least three people involved.

Alice glanced at Carol and let go of the paddle which continued spinning in the water for a moment before coming to rest against the side. She stood up and wiped her hands on her pants, looking a little concerned.

"Sure, Carol." She said, walking toward her. "What's wrong? You feeling OK?"

"Yes and no," Carol said, leaning in toward Alice. Alice pulled away a moment, her concern visibly growing.

"Just tell me what's wrong. Is it the baby?" Alice asked.

"I feel fine…at least I think everything's fine, but I'm not sure," Carol said. She tugged at the sweater again and glanced in the direction of Karen to make sure that the woman wasn't paying them any attention. Though she'd left Carol alone for the most part, she did like to make snide comments from time to time that made Carol uncomfortable, and she didn't want to give her any more fuel for that fire.

"OK, come on, let's go back to your cell, you can tell me about it on the way there," Alice said.

Carol nodded and they started into the prison. Carol led Alice right into her cell and stood there for a moment.

"OK, what's wrong with baby Beans?" Alice asked.

"I don't know," Carol said. "I don't know if anything is wrong. I think I'm going crazy."

Alice looked at her, confused for a moment.

"That's really more Mel's area than mine," she said.

Carol sighed. She pulled up the sweater and pushed down the pant, standing there exposing her belly to Alice. Alice looked at her again.

"What the hell is wrong, Carol? You gotta use your words or something," Alice said finally.

"That!" Carol said, gesturing at the bump. "That's what's wrong!"

"OK, maybe I should go get Mel," Alice said. "You do realize you're pregnant, right? I mean you didn't bump your head or anything did you?"

Carol sighed.

"I swear I don't think it was there yesterday," Carol said.

Alice smiled.

"Your belly popped, it's fine," she said. Alice prodded gently at Carol's belly.

"It _popped_?" Carol asked. She tried to remember back to when she'd been pregnant with Sophia, but it seemed so long ago right now. She thought she remembered gradually starting to show, not feeling like she'd gone to bed with no hint of a baby and woken up feeling huge. "Is it supposed to do this? I don't remember this…"

Alice chuckled. She ran her hand through her hair and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It's perfectly fine. You know, one thing all this physical activity has given us these days are muscles that are a lot stronger than they used to be. I'd bet you didn't have the same stomach muscles when you were pregnant before that you've got now. Am I right?" Alice asked.

"No, I don't know…" Carol said. "I guess I didn't." She did know that she was physically stronger now than she had once been, and before this morning she had considered herself at least a little thinner than she'd been before, but she hadn't paid it all that much attention until now.

"So the stronger your stomach muscles are, the longer they typically hold the baby back," Alice said. "Most of the time it means you take longer to start showing, but then when you do start showing it means that your muscles just sort of gave up, like 'we're not even fuckin' dealing with this shit anymore', and then _pop_ you've got a baby belly."

"So this is just it? This is just permanent?" Carol asked. She had accepted that she was pregnant, at least to some degree, but seeing this was a shock, to say the least. It somewhat brought into reality what she'd kept tucked in the back of her mind.

Alice chuckled again.

"Permanent? No. If my calendar is right, though you're at least fifteen weeks along. It was about time for baby Beans to think about announcing its presence. From here it's full steam ahead."

Carol pulled her pants back up and dropped the sweater, tugging it again, though it now retained very little of its original shape.

"Stop tugging at your clothes," Alice said suddenly. "It's cute, leave it alone." She stood up then. "Anything else you need, or was this your crisis for the morning.

Carol wrung her hands, catching herself moving to tug at the sweater again.

"No, nothing else," she said.

"Then come on out when you're ready. We could use some help with the laundry, and enjoy your bump. It means the baby's healthy and growing, and just wait 'til Papa Bear pays attention to it. If it just popped last night he's going to be just as surprised as you are."

Alice ducked out of the cell then and Carol listened to her disappear, whistling in the hallway. Carol pulled her sweater back up and prodded again at her belly.

"So there you are, huh?" She said. "You didn't want to give me any warning? I guess you didn't owe me that since you didn't make me sick, right?" She sighed and pulled the sweater back down, starting out of the cell again to go and join those that were washing clothes.

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Carol felt like she waited all day for Daryl to get back from hunting. She'd helped do all the laundry, keeping mostly to herself. Alice hadn't said anything else about her problem, and it seemed that no one had paid it any attention, or if they had, they hadn't commented on it. She figured, though, that she'd probably stretched the sweater to such a point that it would be difficult for anyone to notice the belly that she was trying to get used to.

When Daryl had finally come through the fences, he had live rabbits that needed to be put away and he had some squirrels that needed to be cleaned if they were going to make it into the stew for dinner. Carol had desperately wanted to talk to him, but he was occupied with that, as he normally would be. She'd kept busy helping the others and casting glances at him to see when he'd be free.

She hadn't had a single moment with Daryl until dinner rolled around. She cheated and passed through the line first instead of staying to hand out stew. When Daryl came in from having helped Tyreese with one of the walls that they were preparing, Carol waved him over and showed him that she already had a bowl for him. He had nodded at her from across the room and made his way over quickly.

When they sat down at the table, Carol couldn't get her mind off of the baby. She _felt_ different, suddenly, sitting there at the table. She ate her stew quietly, glancing around. She wondered if Daryl had noticed. If he had, he hadn't said anything about it. He just sat and ate his stew like he hadn't eaten in days.

"Hey loud mouth," Daryl called across the table at Alice after he'd swallowed some stew.

"What is it, asshole?" She responded.

"You reckon we could be ready ta go in two days ta get that shit ya said was at that place?" He asked.

Carol knew that Daryl avoided, like most people, saying The Governor at all costs. Now that Beth was joining them for meals, and she was so sensitive still, no one wanted to dare say anything that might set her off. They didn't watch themselves quite as closely with Carol, especially not now. She was still haunted by her experiences, that much was true, but just the mention of the Governor didn't throw her into any kind of fit.

"Don't see why not. Biggest thing we gotta do is figure out who the fuck's goin'," Alice said. "Hank said he can drive some of those huge ass trucks and he's good at driving tractors, ain't that right, Hank?"

Hank grunted from the other end of the table.

"I can get them generators loaded up, shouldn't be no problem," he said.

Daryl nodded and went back to his stew for a moment.

"Fine, tomorrow we'll figure out the details an' we'll be ready ta go the next day. We need ta get this place pretty well ready ta hole up for the winter an' them generators oughta come in handy," he said finally.

Carol didn't get involved. She considered most of the decisions to be the business end of running the group. She'd gladly do whatever they needed her to do, though they asked her to do very little these days, but she didn't get involved much in making the big decisions about what would be good for everyone. She finished her stew, scraping the bowl to get the last of it and sat there for a few minutes, waiting on Daryl.

Alice got up from the table and walked away, returning a few minutes later. She put another bowl down and slid it across the table.

"Eat up, Mama Bear," Alice said. "Shit's mostly water and baby Beans has to eat, so shut up and eat the stew."

Carol took the bowl and looked around, but no one besides Daryl was looking at her. He watched out of the corner of his eye until she picked up her spoon and started eating. The he turned his eyes back to his own bowl with a grunt.

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After dinner, Carol and Daryl stopped by the cell to get their clothes to go and take a shower. They only had a short window before it would be someone else's turn so they got down there quickly without leaving much time for conversation.

"Daryl," Carol said, taking off her shoes by the bench. "Do I look different to you?"

Daryl regarded her a second and then went back to stripping off his clothes.

"No, what'cha mean?" He asked.

"I mean physically, do I look any different to you?" Carol asked.

Daryl regarded her a second longer and then took the wash cloth and headed toward one of the shower stalls.

"Is ya s'posed ta look different?" He grunted.

"I am pregnant, you know," she said.

He looked at her again, turning on the water.

"I don't know, Carol, I reckon ya look fatter," he said. "Now ya better get'cha clothes off an' get over here or we gon' have comp'ny."

Carol was struck by his comment. She peeled her clothes off reluctantly, keeping her back to him.

"What's tha matter with ya?" Daryl asked. He was already lathering up the washcloth. Carol looked at him over her shoulder.

"You think I'm fat?" She asked.

Daryl chuckled a little.

"I said ya was gettin' fatter, good God woman, ya pregnant ain't'cha? Ya s'posed ta get fatter, I thought. Prob'ly 'cause Alice keeps feedin' ya extra all tha time," Daryl said.

Carol turned and walked over, stepping into the stall. Daryl had his head tipped back in the spray. When he straightened up and rubbed at his eyes he reached a hand out and caught her by the shoulder, pushing her under the spray.

"What's goin' on with ya today? Ya better get clean 'cause I know how ya is when someone else comes in here an' ya ain't gonna wanta wash then," he said.

"Look at me, Daryl," Carol said, ignoring the water that was rushing over her and the fact that Daryl was trying to put the washcloth in one of her hands and the bar of soap in the other. He stopped for a moment and she took both of the items, holding her hands out to the side. He regarded her for a moment. Finally he wrinkled his forehead. He took his hand and pushed at her shoulder, turning her sideways.

"When the fuck did that happen?" Daryl asked. "I didn't notice ya was gettin' that fat."

Carol felt like she might start crying. She lathered the rag in her hand as an attempt to distract herself. Daryl grabbed the shampoo off the wall beside her.

"I don't know," she said. "I think it happened last night." She heard her own voice crack. Daryl stopped a moment in lathering his hair and looked at her.

"Is ya cryin'?" He asked.

"No," Carol responded. She busied herself with washing, trying not to look at him. She didn't want to admit that she was crying. She felt ridiculous telling him that he'd hurt her feelings. She'd already determined she would intentionally put soap in her eyes if she had to hide the fact that she was bothered by his comment.

Daryl chuckled.

"Why the hell ya cryin' woman? Ain't nothin' ta cry about," Daryl said.

Carol glanced at him and noticed he was trying everything in his power to keep the suds from the shampoo from running into his eyes. She finished washing quickly and traded places with him so that he could rinse his hair while she shampooed her own.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" She asked.

Daryl finished rinsing his hair and watched her lather her own.

"Hell no I don't think ya ugly," Daryl said. "Why would I think ya ugly?"

"Because you think I'm fat," Carol responded. She swallowed, looking up at him. Daryl smiled at her and moved out of the way, pushing her back under the water.

"Rinse ya hair, Carol, 'fore ya got somethin' else ta cry about," he said. "Ya is fat, but I reckon ya s'posed ta be, ain't ya? I can't think ya ugly 'cause ya fat when it's my kid makin' ya fat."

"Can we not say 'fat' anymore, Daryl?" Carol asked, rinsing her hair. She reached around and turned the water off. Daryl hopped out of the stall and went quickly for towels.

"What's wrong with sayin' fat?" Daryl asked. He returned, holding a towel out to Carol.

"I just don't like the sound of it," Carol said.

"What'cha want me ta say, then?" Daryl asked.

"Try pregnant," Carol said.

"Ya was pregnant 'fore ya got fat," Daryl said.

Carol huffed and toweled off as quickly as she could. She pushed past Daryl and started putting on her pajamas.

"Now ya mad?" Daryl asked, coming over to get dressed.

"No," she said.

"Yeah ya is, ya always move all jumpy when ya mad. I'm sorry I called ya fat. I won't do it no more," Daryl said.

Carol stepped into her shoes again and stood before Daryl who was pulling on one of the shirts that she found him to wear back and forth from the showers to the cell at night. It was light blue, and she loved the color. She reached up, putting her hand on his chest after he pulled the shirt down.

"Promise?" She asked.

Daryl smiled and hugged her to him.

"I promise, woman, I won't call ya fat if it bugs ya so damn much," he said. Daryl pulled away and leaned down, kissing her gently on the forehead. "Ya smell good," he said.

Carol watched him as he collected up his clothes. She rubbed her hand over the bump that she still hadn't adjusted to entirely.

"You want to feel it?" She asked. Daryl eyed her, and watched her hand a minute. He started forward as though he was leaving the bathroom.

"No thanks," he said.

Carol grabbed her things up quickly and started after him. He was moving so quickly that he slammed into Michonne as she was coming through the door, knocking her backwards. She'd have hit the ground had Tyreese not been just behind her.

"Sorry," Daryl grunted, continuing on out the door.

Michonne shot Carol a look, but Carol didn't feel like explaining at the moment.

"Sorry," she said, slipping through the door that Tyreese was holding open for her. "Daryl," she called, following him down the hallway, "why don't you want to feel it?"

"Just don't wanna," he growled from in front of her.

"Well fine, that's OK," Carol said, "but do we have to _run_ back to the cell?"

Daryl slowed his pace then and allowed her to catch up, panting a little from the jog that he'd already taken her on.

When they got back to the cell and deposited their clothes in the laundry pile, Carol raked her fingers through her hair and finished drying it as best she could with a towel. Daryl did the same to his own and tossed the towel at the dirty clothes pile, throwing himself at the bed.

Carol came over and slid onto the bed next to him, kicking off her shoes. She crawled over to him, kissing him. He returned the kiss, his hand going to her side and pushing her gently down onto the mattress, never breaking the kiss. When he finally did break it, he hovered over her a minute, running his hand inside her shirt and cupping her breast.

Carol reached in her shirt and caught his hand. He intertwined his fingers with hers for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed and moved his hand down, pushing it toward her belly. He hesitated a moment and then pulled his hand free, looking a little annoyed.

"Stop," he growled at her.

"Daryl, why don't you want to touch the baby?" Carol asked. He started to roll from over her now, apparently having lost interest in touching her at all.

"I just don't wanna, OK? It's weird," Daryl grunted.

Carol smiled.

"Daryl, it's not weird, it's our baby. It's _your_ baby," she said. She sat up a little on her elbows.

"It's just weird that it's all inside ya an'…" Daryl stopped. "It's just weird, an' I don't wanna touch it," he finished.

Carol sighed. She got off the bed and lifted up the covers crawling under them. She tucked the pillow under her head and regarded Daryl who sat up and peeled off the clothes he'd worn there from the showers, leaving nothing but his boxers on.

"So does this mean you're just not going to touch me until the baby's born?" Carol asked.

Daryl crawled under the covers next to her.

"I don't wanna fight about this," he said. "It ain't you I don't wanna touch, OK? I just don't wanna touch _that_ right now." He said, pointing at her belly, now hidden by the blanket.

"And by _that_ you mean my stomach, right? You mean the place where your baby is growing? The same place you've had no problem touching before?" Carol asked.

Daryl looked at her, annoyed.

"Daryl, I promise you that it's not that weird," she said. "You can't even feel the baby moving right now. You probably aren't going to pay it any attention."

He looked at her and chewed his thumb, a sure sign that he was considering it, but he wasn't sold yet. She smiled.

"Please, Daryl, just put your hand there. If you don't like it, you don't have to touch it again," she said. He continued to regard her and chew at his thumb. "And if you do it, even if you don't like it, I'll let you do whatever you want to me tonight."

"Anything?" Daryl asked.

"Within reason," Carol corrected.

Daryl sighed and put his hand down under the blanket. Carol reached her own hands under and guided him until she felt him place his whole hand across the area that had surprised her so much this morning. He kept his hand there a minute, just gently laid across her. Finally, she felt him gently start to prod at her, his curiosity taking over his feelings of discomfort.

"Not too hard," she said softly.

"Does it hurt?" He asked. His brow was knitted up now. He turned and looked at her, his hand now rubbing the area.

"No," she said, "but if you go jabbing around in there it's not comfortable. Just like if I jabbed you."

Daryl smiled after a minute, his crooked smile.

"Is it as bad as you thought it would be?" She asked.

"No," he said, "but it's still weird."

Carol chuckled.

"It's still weird, you're right. Just wait, it's going to get even weirder," she said.

Daryl kissed her again. She returned the kiss, enjoying the warmth of his hand on her belly. She'd even forgiven him at the moment for calling her fat. She just felt good right this moment. She felt warm and comfortable and happy.

"I love you," she said.

"Love ya too," Daryl said. "Now how 'bout my prize?" He moved and kissed her neck and she laughed at him.

"Take your prize, Daryl," she said. "Whatever you want."


	38. Chapter 38

**AN: OK, here we go…let's move on with the tale that we're spinning here, shall we?**

**I hope you're still enjoying and please let me know what you think.**

**Also, if you like Caryl AUs, then I invite you to check out my new story "Sweet Junction." It's a Caryl AU, but there's involvement from a good number of people from the group. I hope you enjoy it if you choose to read, and if you don't, I hope you enjoy what's coming up in this story! **

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"OK, losers, let's get a move on! We got a lotta fuckin' shit to do today," Alice called, heaving a bag into the trunk of the car that contained food and water for everyone going on the run. The idea was to just take the one car, stealing everything else they needed once they got back to the Governor's old lair.

"Keep your shirt on!" Daryl called back to her. He turned back to Carol.

"I want you to be careful," Carol said, leaning toward him. Daryl rested his forehead against hers.

"I'm always careful, woman. 'Sides, ain't nothin' gonna happen. We just goin' ta raid the place, ain't no one even there," Daryl said.

Carol nodded her head.

"I understand that, but be careful," she said again. Daryl smiled and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her gently off her feet and kissed her deeply before setting her back down.

"Back 'fore dinner, you'll see," Daryl said. He turned to see Alice saying her goodbyes to Mel. When she noticed him looking her in direction she raised her hand and shot him the bird. He laughed at her.

"Quit looking you fuckin' perv!" Alice called. "Play tonsil hockey with Mama over there, but stop minding my business."

Daryl flipped her off and turned his attention back to Carol, kissing her again. He let his hand ghost quickly over her belly. He was still weirded out by the whole thing, but it seemed important to Carol that he touch it, so he made himself do it. In the past few days since it had become noticeable, she'd grown to not only be fond of it, but to strut it, insisting on wearing clothes that he knew she would have otherwise never worn, saying they were too tight. He didn't mind though, the tight shirts she wore showed off what she had to show for the baby, but they also showed off her tits, and he wasn't going to turn his nose up at a good view of them.

"I love you," Carol said softly.

"Love ya too, woman," Daryl said.

He broke away from her then and joined Michonne, Hank, and Alice at the car. The women piled in the backseat and Daryl got behind the wheel. He pulled through the gates as Carl opened them and drove in the direction that he'd come the night he'd rescued Carol.

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"The question is do we split up or not?" Alice said from the backseat. "We need to hit at least two different areas and it's going to tank Hank a hell of a minute to get those generators loaded up once we get one of the flatbeds running."

"I reckon it don't matter too much if we split up, they ain't nobody there," Daryl said.

"We don't think there's anybody there," Alice corrected.

"Ya said everybody left," Daryl said, looking in the rearview mirror.

"No, I said I _thought_ everybody left," Alice said. "We've been gone a while, just because they fucking left doesn't mean they didn't come back. What I've got to do won't take long, though, so I can go on my own."

"Ya ain't doin' no such thing," Daryl growled. "We'll get Hank set up to load the generators and Michonne can stay with him while I take ya ta get whatever the hell ya need," Daryl said.

"Fine," Alice said, "whatever, just as long as we get the shit we need."

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When Daryl finally pulled into the gates of the community, he felt a shiver run up his spine. He remember the last time that he'd come through there, taking down those very same gates. The place looked abandoned, and what's more, it looked like some kind of riot had broken out here before it had been abandoned.

"What the fuck happened here?" Daryl asked.

"Pod people went crazy," Alice said. "When the Governor was dead they had no idea what to do about it. They didn't know what the hell was really going on, so they thought that some evil terrorists had broken in and killed their beloved fucking leader. It was a shame, really."

Daryl decided that she didn't sound like she really thought it was a shame. He had learned that Alice had little regard for the citizens of the community whom she referred to as the pod people. He was unsure if that was because they hadn't suffered the same reality that she had under the hands of the Governor, or if she just genuinely had no sympathy for the individuals that blindly followed him, regardless of the fact that they apparently had no reason to know that it was a bad idea to do so.

"Where ya want me ta go first?" Daryl asked. He pulled the car to a stop and Alice sat up between the seats. This part, these couple of streets were the ones that he kept mostly for making a happy land for the pod people," she said pointing. "That's where the best of the generators are located. You're gonna have to go back toward the back of the community though, back where the rest of us were, if you wanna get the trucks and tractors that he kept stored up to move the shit. Might be more generators back there, but I'm not sure."

"So trucks an' tractors first," Daryl said. "Ain't gon' do us no damn good ta find the generators if we ain't got a way ta move 'em. How we gon' get 'em back?"

"That's no problem," Alice said. I can drive a semi, and Hank's going to drive one of the backhoes back so he can unload the shit at the prison. You and Michonne can carry whatever else we decide to load up. Steal another truck or van or something."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Michonne said.

Daryl drove forward and followed Alice's instructions to get to the back of the community where she said the equipment and most everything related to the Governor's behind the scenes operations was located. It didn't take long to find exactly what they were looking for.

"What if them trucks ain't got keys?" Hank asked, breaking his trip long silence.

"I reckon I can hotwire just about any damn thing," Daryl said. The thought of more electricity than they could even dream of right now was enough to get him excited. He was starting to love the loud mouth brunette in the back seat more than he thought possible.

They got out of the car near the equipment and started milling around. Alice trotted toward one of the largest flat beds and crawled up in the cab. A Walker surprised her by rounding the corner around the cab, but she was quick enough to cleave its skull before it really got anywhere close to grabbing her. She swung up into the cab.

"Sweet ass!" She called, reaching down and turning on the truck. It roared to life. "Got almost a whole fuckin' tank too! We're home free with this baby!"

Everyone backed up as the truck lurched forward.

"I'm taking this beauty up to the front where Hank can load her up, get him a tractor and I'll meet you down there," she called out the window, waving as she maneuvered the truck through the small obstacle course of equipment.

"So she's a doctor with a fuckin' mouth like a sailor that drives big rigs?" Daryl said, shooting a look at MIchonne. Michonne shrugged and walked off to take care of a few Walkers that had been stirred up by the sound of the shouts and the roaring engine.

Hank stood in front of a selection of tractors. Daryl knew they were for different things, but for the life of him he couldn't have identified what any of them were for.

"Anythin' here gonna work?" Daryl asked. Hank walked around them a few minutes. Finally he pointed to one of them.

"I reckon that's the one that's gonna work out the best," he said. "Gotta see if she'll crank though, no telling how long they just been sitting here. I helped unload some of them generators before, but that was a while ago."

"Get to it, fat man," Daryl said. He walked around the tractor twice making sure that there were no Walkers lurking to throw a wrench into their plans. Everything was shaping up nicely and the last thing they needed was Hank to get chewed to pieces when he was the only one comfortable with handling these beasts.

Hank pulled himself up and adjusted the seat in the backhoe. He cranked the tractor. It didn't immediately roar to life, so he dropped down from it and opened a small door on it.

"Ya reckon it's gonna crank?" Daryl asked. Hank had his arm buried inside the machine.

"Oh yeah, it'll crank," Hank said. "I had one like this. She was just tempermental is all. You just keep a watch out for them dead'uns and I'll get her singin' in no time. I could stand a wrench though," he said.

"Michonne, get a wrench out the toolbox in the back of the car," Daryl called. Michonne saluted him to show she'd understood and went behind the car. A few minutes later she came back, passing the wrench into the grease covered hands of Hank.

The old man tinkered around a bit, declared himself satisfied and retook his position on the tractor. This time it choked once but roared to life a moment later.

"Singin' like a bird," Hank said. "We gon' have ta find some fuel, though. She ain't gon' make it through loadin' down that truck and get back to the prison to unload."

"Don't worry about it," Daryl said. "Ya just get on up there with Alice an' we're on our way. We'll find ya some fuel."

Daryl and Michonne got back in the car to head to the front of the community where Hank and Alice should be waiting for them, hopefully already at work loading up the truck. Daryl didn't know where to find the fuel or exactly what kind the old tractor needed, but he had the sinking suspicion that Alice would know and would be able to find it when they came back for whatever it was that she wanted.

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Daryl and Alice left Hank loading generators while Michonne kept watch for Walkers and any possible straggling pod people. They hadn't decided what they would do with the people were they to encounter them, but Michonne had given herself strict orders to kill them should they try to attack anyone. Daryl thought that seemed fair enough. They could deal with anyone that had come in peace later.

The first stop that Daryl and Alice made was at the house that Daryl recognized as one that Rick and Glenn had searched. He glanced over at Alice and couldn't help but think to himself that they hadn't done a very thorough job, but then again, if they had they would have probably killed her, and they wouldn't likely be here scavenging medical equipment for the prison.

Daryl followed Alice into the abandoned house. She found a bag and went to work packing it upstairs. The room looked like it had been rigged to be an examination room with a bed in it. He shuddered a little looking at the blood stains on the bed and wondering what all had come through that room. He wondered if this was the room that Carol remembered from her nightmares.

"It's really a shame to leave all of this," Alice said. She was stuffing things into various bags that she'd somehow acquired now. "We just can't carry it all, not in the back of the car. This place was set up too, man. I coulda fuckin' done just about anything. I did some fuckin' sweet ass operations here. I mighta done a fuckin' head transplant if anyone needed some shit like that."

Daryl could see that she really did look bothered as she walked about selecting things to pack into the large bags.

"If'n it means that much ta ya, we can always come back an' steal another one a' them big damn trucks," he said. "Ya could take all the shit with ya that ya wanted then."

"And where would we put it in the prison?" Alice asked, stopping to look at him.

"Hell, we 'bout got cellblock D cleared out. Ya could take some a' them offices back there an' make yourself ya own damn hospital for all I care," Daryl said.

Suddenly a grin came across Alice's face.

"Are you for fucking real?" She asked. Daryl eyed her suspiciously. She looked like she might hug him and he didn't consider Alice the hugging type. He considered her the noogie type, he considered her the wedgie type, but he didn't consider her the hugging type.

"Sure," he said, backing up just enough to show that he had no intention of hugging her. "Why the hell not? If takin' some a' this shit back with ya makes it so's ya can save somebody that needs savin', I'll make the run with ya myself."

"Fuck yeah!" Alice said, grinning. "Do you know what all I can do with all this shit? I mean just in these bags I got every fuckin' thing I need ta pull her through if I gotta deliver your kid by c-section. The Governor had me doing some shit that I never would have fucking thought I had the skills to do, but I pulled it off."

Daryl smiled at her. She looked like it was Christmas and all he'd done was promise that another day they'd come back for the rest of her shit. She wandered around a little longer until the bags she had were busting at the seams.

"I guess that'll have to do for now," Alice said. "We'll get the rest when we come back."

Daryl heaved up two of the bags and left her the last one. They made their way outside and Alice waddled in front of him, clearing their path with her machete of the three or four Walkers that had decided they were of interest.

"Now we gotta get fuel for Hank," Daryl said, shutting the back of the car.

"Fuel tanks were with the equipment. If they don't have enough in them we could always siphon it out of the other shit that we're not gonna use." Alice said. Daryl nodded his head in agreement and drove back to the place they'd been before.

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"This stuff tastes like shit," Alice spat. They'd almost finished filling all the fuel containers that they could find and the back of the car was pretty well packed. Daryl didn't want to try to cram much more in for fear that it would slosh everywhere. Despite the fact that it would smell terrible and the fumes could possibly kill them all, he worried it might make the car a rolling fire hazard.

"Yeah, well, ya ain't s'posed ta drink it," Daryl said, waiting to take the last container that Alice was filling.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Alice said, rolling her eyes at him.

"We best be gettin' back ta Michonne an' Hank soon. I reckon they oughtta have a good couple a' them generators loaded by now," Daryl said. Even from across the community he could hear the sound of the tractor running, so he knew the two of them were still there and Hank was still working.

"We're done here," Alice said, handing over the gas can and getting into the car while Daryl loaded it into the back.

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When Daryl and Alice got back with the fuel, it looked as though Hank was almost done. The truck was pretty well weighted down.

"I can't tie those fuckers down," Alice said. "I'm just going to have to drive easy and hope I don't get pulled."

Daryl snickered. He watched as Hank worked to maneuver another generator into place. It looked to him to be a very difficult activity, and he had a sudden respect for the old man and the grace with which he handled the mechanical beast under him.

"I reckon he weren't lyin' when he said he'd done it all his life," Daryl said.

"He's been just as happy as he could be up there," Michonne said, stepping beside Daryl and shading her eyes so she could look directly in the direction of the old man.

"How's it been down here on the ground?" Daryl asked. "Ya had any comp'ny?"

"No," Michonne responded. "I mean a few Walkers, but either all the people are gone or they're just hiding."

"Either way I don't give a shit," Daryl said, "long as they ain't botherin' us none."

They stood a little longer watching Hank do his magic. It would soon be time to head home and see how excited everyone would be by the trailer full of generators.

"Told Alice we'd come back an' get us another truck later. She wants ta get the rest a' that stuff she's got for doctorin' people," Daryl said.

Michonne nodded her understanding but didn't offer any words.

Unexpectedly, a man appeared from somewhere behind Hank's tractor. He crossed wide around the tractor and circled near Michonne and Daryl, keeping his distance from them.

"Weelll," he said, spitting in the dirt, "what have we got here? Hiya princess, didn't think I'd see you again."

Daryl realized the man was addressing Alice who was standing beside him, him and Michonne between the two of them. Immediately he could tell from the look on Alice's face that this wasn't a happy reunion. At first Alice looked a little frightened, but then she drew herself up.

"Wouldn't think a sorry son of a bitch like yourself would still be around here," Alice spat. "Why didn't you run off with the rest of your boys when the Governor fell?"

The man smiled slowly.

"My _boys_ didn't run off, doll face. We just changed our location, a lot like you did. Where the fuck you hiding out these days?" He asked, looking around at the equipment.

"None of your fucking business," Alice spat back at him.

Daryl wasn't really sure what to do in this situation. Hank was oblivious to all that was going on below. Alice seemed, for the moment, to be confident in her interactions with the man. Daryl didn't know who the man was, but he'd already come to the conclusion that he was one of the Governor's men, and that meant he was bad news.

"Come here," the man said loudly, "I got a lot to talk over with you." He lunged forward as though he was aiming to grab Alice and Daryl stepped between them, his crossbow already in his hands.

"Ya keep ya fuckin' hands off her," Daryl growled at the man. He didn't recognize him, and he was fairly confident that he'd never seen him before, but he had no doubt now that the man didn't come in peace.

"I see you got you a boyfriend now," the man said. "Did you lose that little puppet you carried around with you?" When Alice didn't respond, the man shifted his wait, not moving any closer because of Daryl's loaded crossbow. Daryl heard Hank kill the engine on the tractor, but hopefully the old man wouldn't make any moves. "Did you try to bite his dick off too, princess?" The man asked.

"Even if I wanted to I can't open my mouth that fuckin' wide," Alice said. "It was a lot easier with that little swizzle stick you call a dick."

The man stepped forward and Daryl thought, for a split second, about whether or not he should just shoot him and be done with it. He was momentarily surprised, however, when his answer came in the form of the man's head flying off his body and rolling away as what was left of him crumpled forward. Daryl cast a glance at Alice. Her jaw was open and her eyes were wide. It was the first time he'd really seen her speechless. He looked back at Michonne who was resheathing her katana.

"I got tired of his mouth," Michonne said.

"Fuck," Daryl said. He turned toward Alice. He'd already figured out for sure now that the man had been one of the Governor's men, but now it raised the question as to how many were left. "How many of the fuckin' Governor's men got away?" He yelled. He didn't mean to be as loud as he had been and Alice jumped.

She shrugged her shoulders and stood there for a moment, still not completely over the beheading she'd just witnessed.

"I…I don't know," she stuttered. "I thought you cleaned out most of them when you came rolling through here."

"Fuck!" Daryl said again. "And you're sure the fuckin' Governor's dead?"

"Oh yeah," Michonne said, "The Governor's dead."

"That don't mean he's the only sick fuck among 'em, though," Daryl said. He shouldered his crossbow and cursed again. Suddenly the bright spot in his day that had come from finding the generators was dimmed by the thought that there could be other men out there, other groups, other armies even, with the same sick intentions as the man that they'd seen, even briefly, as their only truly living enemy in this new world. "Fine, we gon' get this shit back ta the prison. We ain't gon' say nothin' 'bout this ta Carol or Beth 'til we talk ta the others," he said. "We might not even have ta worry, but we need ta at least discuss it. They don't need ta know nothin' 'til we got some kinda plan. Ain't no need havin' 'em worry that some demon's gonna come poppin' outta their fuckin' heads an' try ta kill 'em again."

"Agreed," Alice said.

Michonne nodded her head when he looked at her. They went to work and quickly refueled Hank's tractor, telling him that he was to say nothing about the man that they killed, or at least nothing in detail, until they'd had a chance to at least talk it over with Glenn and Rick. Hank agreed without any problem.

When they were ready to go, Alice crawled into the cab of the truck and cranked it. She lurched forward leading the caravan with Hank behind her on his tractor and Michonne and Daryl following just behind him.

On the ride back the car was silent. Michonne, thankfully, didn't seem to want to discuss what had happened, and Daryl was lost in his own thoughts about what it could mean if some of the Governor's men were out there. There was a chance that they knew nothing about them, and there was a chance that even if they did they'd leave them alone, but there was also always the chance that some sick fuck among them would try to step into the Governor's shoes and take everything they'd worked for, no matter how little it really was.


	39. Chapter 39

**AN: Well, it's been a productive day in that I got a chapter out for one of my other fics, and now one out for this. I'll probably head to Sweet Junction next. It's been unproductive in that I haven't written nearly as much as I had hoped to write, mostly owing to the fact that I simply can't write it as quickly as I can imagine it. **

**Still, lovelies, I hope you enjoy the chapter and I'll be back with more as soon as I can! Let me know what you think! I know I haven't responded to each and every one of your reviews, but I appreciate them all. I appreciate all everyone who reads! **

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"We could be getting ahead of ourselves," Rick said. He'd gathered most of the people of the prison together around the table in the dining area to discuss the possible threat of the lurking men left behind by the Governor. The only people not present were Beth, who was in her cell doing whatever it was that Beth did when left to her own devices, and Carol who was in cellblock D tending to some rabbits that Daryl had trapped to start breeding in the makeshift pens that Tyreese had built there. They'd been careful not to alert either of the women to the situation until they'd calmly discussed it at some length. "We can make sure someone's always on watch, but there's no need to assume that we're going to be hearing anything from these men if we haven't heard anything yet."

"I ain't sayin' we need ta prepare ta go ta war tomorrow," Daryl said, "but I think we oughta at least be aware of the possibility."

"Oh, I agree with that," Rick said. "We can't be too careful. The prison isn't in the best shape that it could be, certainly not since the Governor's attack, and too much more damage could force us out of her, but I think our main focus right now has got to be preparing for the winter. We need to do more runs. We need to stock up on supplies. If it snows us in then we're not getting out to get more without risking lives just because of the elements alone. That's got to be our priority."

"Maggie and I can go on runs," Glenn offered. "We can steal some vans or trucks or something and bring back as much as possible from any of the towns around here that we can hit."

"Hell," Alice said, "I can drive semis. Fuck the kindergarten shit with vans. If we really want to put a dent in some shit then we can load some eighteen wheelers and haul them back here. Daryl's going to go back with me to get some of the hospital supplies at the old place we were at. Some people could tag along and clear out houses. The damn place was stocked. We'll get plenty to put away by just sinking a day into scavenging there, assuming Govy boy's old friends didn't clear it out."

"That's fine," Rick said, "but if anyone goes back there no one breaks off on their own. There's strength in numbers and if you get surprised again no one wants to be there without someone who's got their back."

"Nobody needs to be out there alone," Hank spoke up. "We barely made it from there to here and there were three of us, and that was just the threat of Walkers alone. We don't know who is left from the Governor's men, or how many of them there are, but I can tell you that any of the men that went along with him out of anything besides self-preservation are dangerous. They were sick then, and I don't believe they're any less sick now. They probably don't know where we are or who we are, but eventually they'll simply want to take whatever's here. That's how they functioned under the Governor."

"What do you mean?" Rick asked. The old man seldom bothered to speak, and the fact that he seemed a little worked up about whatever he'd been over there thinking about at least caught Rick's attention.

"I'm just saying that when I got in there and I found out what the Governor was doing, it was pretty clear. He lied to everyone at first. He attacked a lot of helpless groups of survivors. Just like Alice's group, he took them in the night an' damn near always by surprise. That's the first indication I had that he weren't right about them all being super threats to what he had. He just wanted what _they_ had. That was the law of the land in that community and you can bet your bottom dollar that any of them man that was with him lived by the same code. What's mine is mine and what's yours should be mine, by whatever means necessary," Hank said. "They don't care nothing about us as people. The most they might want is to get their hands on any of the women they want to keep as trophies, the rest is all about having more to keep 'em going."

Rick nodded his head.

"You said the man today was violent, though, and there was just one of him and four of you," Tyreese said.

Alice nodded.

"Well, I kind of almost bit his fucking dick off," she said, "and I don't think he was banking on me being the one that had to put it back on. I kind of made sure that it was crooked, and I might have made sure that it wouldn't ever work for anything besides taking a piss."

"You might have or you did?" Tyreese asked with a chuckle.

Alice shrugged.

"I figured if he didn't know what he was supposed to do with it then it might be better if he wasn't left deciding things like that. I suppose you'd probably have a bone to pick with a woman if she nearly bit your dick off too," she said. Tyreese sighed.

"I don't suppose I'd try to put my dick into the mouth of any woman I wasn't pretty positive wanted it there," he said.

"People are different," Alice offered.

"OK," Rick said, "so we know we need to be on guard against these people in case they're out there and in case they stumble upon us. We also know that there are more survivors out there that aren't bad people though. We know that a lot of Woodbury folks ran for it and we know that the people from the community took off too."

"The pod people," Alice offered.

"Regardless of whether or not they were brainwashed into believing the Governor was a decent person or not, that doesn't mean that they're bad people," Rick said.

"It just means that they're gullible," Michonne said. "We can all be gullible at times. Andrea didn't realize what she was getting into either."

"Exactly," Rick said. "So we make sure that people are on watch, but we can't just issue a decree to kill anyone who comes near us. We'll do the same thing with anyone that comes that we did with you three. We'll hold them while we figure out what we're dealing with. If Hank, Alice, or Mel, or God forbid Carol or Beth, can identify them as someone that's dangerous, we eliminate them. Otherwise we owe it to them to extend the same trial basis that we've given to you three."

"Wait," Alice said, "are we still on trial?"

Everyone looked between themselves for a moment. Rick looked uncomfortable with the question and as though he didn't wish to respond. Hershel's only response was to hang his head a little and turn his attention to Judith who was napping in his lap.

"Well fuck!" Alice said. "You're not going to just stuff our asses back in that damn cell on a whim are you?"

"Calm the fuck down," Daryl said. "Ya ain't on trial no damn more. Rick if they were aimin' ta kill us then they had their chance ta at least make some move today. We was separated off with 'em an' ain't neither of 'em so much as got too close for comfort. I don't reckon they wolves in sheep's clothin'."

Rick sighed.

"You're probably right," he said. "How are we going to know, though, how long is a good trial period for newcomers? I mean how long do they have to bide their time before we let them out and run the risk that they've been playing nice to placate us? I'm starting to feel like we can't trust anyone anymore, and I'm sorry to say it, Alice, but I'm not even sure that I trust you three entirely."

"Rick," Melodye said, "I know what people like the Governor can do to you. They can destroy your faith in humanity. I mean, really, everything about this world now can do that. People aren't what they used to be, and they aren't what they seem all of the time. I understand that you may think it's difficult to trust us, but I assure you that we're all good people. I think that you might be forgetting that just as much as you're having to trust us, we're having to trust you. We trusted you even though you locked us in cell and approached us with weapons after you took ours. We trusted you every time you said you weren't going to kill us, even though we had no reason to believe you were telling the truth. We've trusted you that you're going to let us live among you in peace, and we believed you when you said the choice to stay was our own. All I'm going to say is that it isn't really fair if we've got to continuously try and earn your trust when we've graciously given you a good deal of our own."

"You both make good points," Hershel said softly. "I suppose that, like us, whatever acts of violence these three may have committed in the past, they did out of the instinct to survive, and we can't fault them for that. Even the smallest of animals will kill another for the survival of self. As for anyone else that might stumble upon the prison, we're going to have to trust that as a collective we've got the instincts to see through whatever masks they might decide to wear."

"If it's all a façade," Michonne said, "then surely within a week of being confined we'll have seen some sign that they're not all they say they are. For the time that we had these three locked up we saw them go through a lot of changes, but none of them looked any more dangerous than a moment of panic, and I can understand that. I felt the same way when you locked me in the holding cell. The panic comes from feeling out of control."

Rick nodded.

"Fine then, we'll give any newcomers a week in the cell. If we all agree at the end of a week that we think they're harmless, then we let them out. The fact remains, though, that we protect our own. If anyone makes a move to harm our people, we've got no choice but to eliminate them and eliminate them quickly. It might not be easy, but we can't let ourselves be compromised," Rick said.

"What's going on in here?" Carol asked, coming to the doorway. Everyone turned to stare at her for a moment, no one quite knowing what to say. Finally it was Daryl that spoke up.

"Come 'ere a minute," Daryl said.

Carol looked very confused, and her confusion could easily be understood. She'd been sent to care for the rabbits under the idea that everyone else would be occupied with other tasks. Now they were all sitting in a circle around the dining room and everyone wore heavy expressions because of the weighty conversation that had been taking place. Carol stepped forward, coming to a stop by Daryl's chair, her eyes dancing between the sullen faces of her group members.

"We run into a spot a' trouble today," Daryl said. Carol looked at him, even more confused. They might have told her that the run went very smoothly when they got back. It wasn't entirely a lie. Most of the run _had_ gone smoothly, and they'd returned with most of what they'd set out to bring back.

"What do you mean?" She asked. "What happened?"

"Ain't nothin' happened, Carol, not really," Daryl said. "We run into someone that Alice used ta know, a man that was one of the Governor's men an' he kinda made a move at Alice so Michonne killed him."

Carol looked at Michonne who sitting with her elbows on the table. She didn't even appear to try to look remorseful about the situation. She wasn't sorry in the slightest that she had deprived the man of his head. Perhaps the only regret there was that it hadn't happened a long time ago.

"We was talkin'," Daryl said, "'cause we was tryin' ta decide what we was gon' do if anymore a' his men showed up here. We don't know if they all dead or not, an' we know there's more survivors out there an' there's a chance they could come crawlin' up."

"Especially with winter coming," Rick offered. "People are going to be looking for shelter and if they see the prison, especially cleaned out like it is, they're probably going to see it as a safe place to try and hunker down."

Carol's hand went instinctively to her belly, the other hand resting on Daryl's shoulder. She looked at Rick, the look of confusion and worry not having left her in the slightest.

"The Governor's men are still out there?" She asked.

"We don't know," Michonne offered. "The man said that he wasn't alone, but he could have been lying. We just think it's best to keep a watch out for them in case they are, and we think it's best that we have a plan for weeding out any newcomers that might end up on our doorsteps. It's nothing to worry about. We're not letting anything happen to anyone."

Despite Michonne's words, Carol didn't look entirely relieved. Daryl watched her for a moment. He couldn't blame her for her concern. He supposed that if he'd been in her position he would be disturbed at the thought that some of the men might still be out there, and especially at the possibility that they might appear at their doors.

"We can't guarantee that," Carol said. "We can't guarantee that anyone is safe anymore. We thought we were safe before…"

"It ain't nothin' ta worry about, Carol," Daryl said. "We're safe in the prison and ya ain't goin' outside of it. Ya ain't even gotta go outside ta get water no more. We gon' start runs tomorrow an' we gon' stock the place up for winter an' then we gon' hunker down. If anyone shows up then we'll deal with 'em, but ya ain't gotta worry 'bout it 'cause ya ain't goin' nowhere."

"Aren't you worried about runs?" Carol asked. "What if you stumble upon them? Then what? We might not even be able to find anyone."

Glenn was the one to turn his attention on Carol then.

"We have to make runs," Glenn said. "It's going to be the only way we make it through the winter, but we're going in groups. We'll be as safe as we can. There's always a risk, but that's nothing new to anyone. We can just do the best we can and hope that everything turns out alright."

Carol nodded, but she didn't look wholly convinced.

"Just settle down," Melodye said after a minute. "We really don't even know that there's anything to worry about at all. All we're doing right now is discussing the possibility. Like the old adage goes, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. It's better to have a plan and not need it than to need it and not have a plan."

Carol nodded at her words.

"Tonight it ain't nothin' ta worry about at all," Daryl said. "We done got us a big haul a' generators, and that means celebratin', not all this frettin' 'bout stuff that might not ever happen. Everybody needs ta get back ta what they was doin'. Then I propose we have us a nice supper an' we see about firin' up one a them generators an' celebratin' by watchin' a movie or somethin' nice like that."

Carol was still breathing heavy, Daryl could see the rising and falling in her chest, but he could also see that she was working to get it under control.

"The library has a whole shelf of movies, and there's a cart down there with a television," she said.

Daryl smiled at her, proud that she was handling the news even better than he thought she might.

"Tell ya what," he said, "how 'bout we go ta work gettin' the generator set up an' gettin' somethin' fixed up for supper an' you go down there an' pick out a movie. Mel, ya reckon ya could go with her? Help her get that cart in here an' get the common area set up for everybody ta watch a movie after we eat?" Daryl said.

Melodye nodded, smiling.

"Sure. We can bring it in and rearrange the mattresses so that everyone can relax while they watch," she said. She winked at Daryl and Daryl knew that she was aware that he was sending her in particular so that she could attempt to talk Carol into resuming the calm that she'd been enjoying. He knew that something like a movie night could be considered a ridiculous way to spend some of the electricity that they had now, but he felt like everyone needed something ridiculous every now and again. Gathering together in the common area on the extra mattresses that they used as couches and sharing something like a movie might just be what everyone needed, and they had more than enough generators and fuel to spare that every now and again.

Everyone started to get up from their positions and Melodye came around the table, wrapping her arm protectively around Carol's shoulder.

"Make sure ya pick somethin' that everybody's gonna like," Daryl teased as they started out the door. "Don't'cha pick no damn chick flick tryin' ta get everyone all emotional an' shit."

There was no response, but Daryl knew that Carol had heard him and most likely would appreciate any efforts to lighten the situation. He turned with the others and started outside to get to work setting up their new finds, praying that they got things working like they intended.

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Daryl was aware that Carol was asleep before the movie was over. She'd been asleep since shortly after it began and the tingling in his arm which she had pinned against the wall had been the first indication. It wasn't a bad movie, some kind of movie with cops and kids that was pretty funny, but he hadn't heard the title of it and he really hadn't paying all that much attention. Once the tingling started up that had more or less taken most of his attention away from the movie. He wanted to move his arm, but he didn't want to disturb Carol. That didn't mean, however, that most of his brain was focusing, whether he wanted it to not on the fact that he thought his arm might fall off at any given moment. As time went on, the numbness and the distraction grew. Now he was trying to figure out if it might be possible to shift her so that she was leaning more on his chest without actually waking her.

Daryl reached and tugged at Carol's shoulder with his free hand. He pulled her slowly onto him. She startled him a little when she reacted and rolled the rest of the way on her own, moaning, and nearly rolled on top of him. He glanced around, a little embarrassed to see if anyone had noticed, but no one was paying them any attention. Everyone was curled up, enjoying the movie. Daryl kept his hand on Carol so that she wouldn't slide off him and for a moment relished the freedom of his arm. His thrill, however, only lasted a moment because the blood rushing back into his arm made it hurt worse than it had.

Daryl didn't mean to squirm as much as he did trying to relieve the stinging of his arm, but he accidentally woke Carol up despite his best efforts. She sat up a little in the dark room and looked around, most likely adjusting to the sound of the movie and the flickering light, both things that they'd grown unaccustomed to in the days since the dead inherited the Earth and electricity had become something scarce.

"Are you alright?" She whispered after a moment, looking up at Daryl. He smiled at her.

"My arm fell asleep," he said. "'Bout two hours ago."

Carol pushed herself up from his chest then and sat next to him.

"I'm sorry, did I do it?" She asked, still attempting to keep her voice at a whisper so as to not entirely disturb everyone around them.

"Don't matter," Daryl said. "What ya say we go ta bed? I ain't watchin' the movie, an' neither is you."

Carol nodded and Daryl heaved himself up from the mattress, careful not to rely too much on the arm that hadn't entirely come back to the world in which they lived. He reached his good hand down and Carol caught it, letting him pull her up from the mattress. As he stood there he realized how little support their mattress couches offered on the concrete floors. He felt old and stove-up. He hadn't sat on one of them so long before. As he wrestled Carol to her feet it was pretty clear that she was feeling no more flexible than he was at the moment. She nearly pulled him over to topple down on top of him. He glanced around again, thankful that no one had seen their near mishap.

He led her back to the cell without saying anything to anyone else. They probably wouldn't have appreciated it anyway. It seemed like everyone was afraid to look away from the screen for fear of missing even a second of its illuminated glory.

When they got back in the cell Daryl started stripping down for bed. He noticed Carol grimacing as she did the same.

"Ya alright? What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing," she said. "My back just hurts a bit," she said.

Daryl stopped peeling his own clothes off and walked over to help her pull her shirt over her head. She looked at him, blushing a little in the lamplight.

"Thanks," she said.

"No problem," Daryl said. "I ain't surprised ya back hurts. Mine's achin' too an' ya was all crumpled up for a while there."

"Just feeling my age, I guess," Carol said solemnly, sitting on the edge of the bed and fumbling with her nightgown. Daryl stripped down to his boxers and crawled across the bed, attempting to burrow down under the cover despite the fact that she was weighing them down. He could tell that she was in a mood. He didn't know if it was because she didn't feel good, because her back hurt, because of her age comment, or just because, but it was pretty obvious.

"Ya ain't feelin' ya age," Daryl said. "Ya feelin' what two damn hours a' layin' a fucked up position on a concrete floor will do ta anybody's ass. I bet'cha come tomorrow ain't no one 'cept maybe Carl walkin' 'round without lookin' at least a lil' stove-up."

Carol finished getting her nightgown on and stood up, lifting the covers and sliding in to lie facing Daryl. She still didn't look satisfied, and Daryl assumed this was just going to be one of those grumpy moods that wasn't going to go away until she was good and ready to let it leave.

"You can say that all you want," she said, nuzzling her face down deeper into the pillow, "but the fact remains that I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Well hell, Carol, Lil' Asskicker ain't as young as she used ta be neither. Don't hear her squallin' 'bout it," Daryl said with a smile.

"I am not squalling, Daryl Dixon," Carol said, pepping up. Daryl tried hard to control the smile that was threatening to escape at her facial expression. She was mad, and he was supposed to mind when she was mad, but really he found it funny most of the time, as long as she wasn't _really_ mad.

"Ya ain't squallin' yet, but ya is poutin' an' they ain't no need for poutin' an' shit," Daryl said. "Ain't gon' change a damn thing no way. We're all old as we is an' that's just that. Beats tha hell outta the other option."

"I guess you're right," Carol said, settling down a little again. She was quiet for a minute and Daryl closed his eyes. "Daryl?" She asked after a moment.

"Yeah?" He asked, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Do you really think that any of the Governor's men are going to show up here?" Carol asked.

"Don't even think about it," Daryl said. "Ain't gon' matter no way, I done told ya I ain't lettin' no one lay a finger on ya that ya don't want touchin' ya."

"I know you said that, Daryl, but do you think they'll show up?" Carol asked.

"Carol, worryin' 'bout that's 'bout as useful as worryin' 'bout the fact that ain't a damn one a' us goin' backward in time. We won't know that 'til it happens, and if it do happen, we'll take care a' it, so it ain't no big deal no way," Daryl said.

Daryl opened his eyes and looked at her. She was lying quietly, but she was awake. Her eyes were open. She was just lying there hugging the pillow. Daryl sighed and sat up, leaning over her to blow the lamp out. He decided to sacrifice his other arm for the sake of a good night's sleep for both of them. He slid his arm under her and pulled her to him until she finally succumbed and put her head on his chest. He wrapped his other arm around and hugged her against him.

"Just go back ta sleep like ya was in there or I'ma have ta drag that damn mattress in here an' sleep with ya on the floor," Daryl said. "Ya was sleepin' good in there 'cause ya weren't tryin' ta occupy all ya time with worryin'."

Carol chuckled at him and he felt her root her face into his chest.

"I'm going to sleep," she said. "I don't want to spend the night on the floor. I might not get up in the morning."

"That makes two of us, so close ya pretty eyes an' get some sleep. We gotta lot we gotta do tomorrow ta get this place ready for the winter an' we don't need ta be fallin' asleep the whole day," Daryl said.

Daryl lie there for a few minutes, expecting her to start back up. Usually once something was on her mind it was hell to try to get her to let go of it. Sometimes they could go almost all night with him having no other purpose in mind behind anything he said except to coax her to sleep. It wasn't too long, though, before he realized that she'd fallen asleep, snoring lightly against his chest. He snickered to himself. He hadn't told her that she snored, and it was something she hadn't really started doing until lately, but he didn't think he was going to tell her. The last thing he needed was for her to stay awake at night worrying about the fact that she'd snore when she slept. And besides, he'd come to think it was kind of cute, whether or not he'd ever admit that, and whether or not she'd ever agree.


	40. Chapter 40

**AN: So I'm updating here. Things are in getting in gear again, and this time promising a little more intensity. I'm not sure when it'll hit, but sometime soon I'm probably going to be limited to one chapter a day at best. Since I have four stories (three of which are updated fairly regularly, and the fourth I hope to get going soon), I'll be alternating through them with the updates. I just thought I'd give you a heads up so that when it hits and each story goes several days without being updated (unless I can swing more than one), you won't worry that I've abandoned any of them. I'm merely working through them.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! **

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Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha decided to take one of the vans out to go in search of supplies. They needed to do more scouting of the surrounding areas before they decided to make a run that was monumental enough to steal some kind of semi.

Daryl was taking Alice and Tyreese back to the Governor's old stomping ground to bring back what Alice wanted to salvage from her old office and then they were going to spend a little time exploring the houses and other storage areas to see how much stuff the housing community could offer to them, were they to go on an organized cleaning effort.

Rick and Michonne agreed to stay behind and act as guards for the prison in case someone were to stumble upon them. Carol and the other women would take care of the normal domestic chores that never seemed to be finished, while Hank and Carl took inventory of the supplies they had and attempted to make lists of everything they'd most likely need if they hoped to survive the winter without having to go out, except under extreme circumstances.

Daryl felt like, realistically, it was Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha that were going on the most dangerous of the runs. They were more or less going "out there" somewhere with very little knowledge of exactly where they were going, what they were going for, or when they'd be back. Clearly the expectation was that they'd make it back before nightfall, but the reality was that they had no idea what they'd run into or how far out they'd have to go. They packed supplies to be prepared to stay overnight if the need arose, though they hoped it was a precaution that they didn't need.

Daryl worried about the men that were left behind from the Governor's crew. They were dangerous, clearly, for simply having not only followed the man but for having supported what he did. It wasn't the few men that were left over that worried Daryl greatly, though, as much as the possibility that they'd found more numbers out there. This world changed people. It changed everyone. It was impossible to see the things that they'd seen and do the things that they'd all been forced to do and remain untouched.

It wasn't the changing that was terrifying, though, since they'd all changed. Rather it was the way in which people changed. There was very little predictability about how any given event might affect those that experienced it. Some changed for the good, while others seem to take an entirely different route. It was those people that worried Daryl. On their own they were dangerous and unpredictable. They didn't function according to any residue of the moral codes that society had once tried to inflict upon them. Together, though, was when it was possible that they were really a threat.

If the Governor's men had escaped death at the community, and if they had encountered others who lived by the same codes they lived by, then they could likely have built numbers that the prison group wouldn't be comfortable with. There was strength in numbers, whether it was strength for good or for bad.

Daryl worried that Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha, out exploring on their own, might unknowingly stumble into a den of these people. They had no way of knowing where they might be holding up, so it would be impossible to avoid them. Daryl had pulled Glenn to the side that morning, when they were all discussing exactly who would go on what excursion, and he'd reminded him of these possibilities. He'd reminded Glenn that they now knew nothing more out there than to kill if you felt threatened and ask questions later. He didn't want them hesitating if they felt that they'd stumbled into a pit of snakes on accident.

The others, it seemed, were worried about Daryl's crew. The reasoning behind their worrying being that whoever had been with the man that Michonne had relieved of his head may very well go in search of him, and upon finding him in the state that he was, they might stake out the area in hope that whoever did it would return. Daryl understood that this was a possibility, but he wasn't too concerned about it. He felt like they were likely to think that it had merely been a passing band of survivors and wouldn't want to waste their time or energy forming a stake out for people that might not come.

As they were loading vehicles and preparing to go, Daryl kept casting a glance over toward Carol. She'd been worried about the run, but she was trying to keep herself occupied by throwing herself fully into the laundry right now. She was working alongside Melodye, and seemed to be lost in some sort of conversation. Karen had disappeared for the moment, but he had no doubt that she'd be rejoining them shortly, probably having slipped off to gather more clothes. Beth sat alone by the prison wall, leaning back against it. A book was open in her lap, but she didn't seem to be paying it much attention. At least she was beginning to venture out more, and Daryl had seen her helping Hershel with Judith more and more these days.

"We gotta roll out, Carol," Daryl said, closing the distance toward where the women were washing clothes. Carol, who was wringing out some of the clothes that had been rinsed, dropped what she was doing and got up, coming over to wrap her arms around him and kiss him. Daryl decided that he wasn't going to act like the run was any kind of big deal if she wasn't, since he wasn't nearly as concerned about it as some of the others were.

"Be careful," Carol said. "Come back."

Daryl studied her a moment. Her words would normally have been heavy laden with worry, but today they just seemed like a simple request, like the same one that anyone would make before you stepped outside the gates these days. He decided that she was apparently having a really good day, and that made him feel much better about leaving her for the few hours that they'd be gone.

"You know it," he said, smiling. "Take care of the bean."

"We'll be fine, nothing going on here," Carol said. She smiled at him and he couldn't help but return it. He tipped her head up again and kissed her once more before he turned to join his group that was already loading up.

Rick and Michonne opened the gates and cleared the area just outside for the two vehicles to slip through the Walkers starting to build up there, and then they swiftly pulled the gates back into place once the caravan had passed.

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"You know, I don't want to complain or anything, but don't you ever get tired of doing this?" Melodye asked just after Karen had set a bucket of fresh hot water next to her. She got to her feet and started pushing at the cast iron cauldron of sorts that they had found to use for soaking clothes. It had been the best they could find before they had the luxury of indoor hot water because the water could be heated slightly over a fire without the pot scorching.

Carol got up from the clothes that she was scrubbing and came over to help Melodye tip out the dirty water.

"I've been doing laundry for this group and helping with meals since this whole thing started," Carol said. "I guess that I don't mind it now because it's normal. It's just what I do, you know?"

The cast iron pot tipped finally and both of them almost went over with it when it rolled. Each hitting their knees to avoid being drug after it. They both laughed at each other for a second before regaining themselves.

"I guess it's the kind of thing that you get used to," Melodye said. "I never was very domestic. Alice always did the laundry and the cleaning. I cooked. She seemed to think that was worth all the other chores around the house as long as she never had to be responsible for putting anything on the stove for dinner."

"If it works, it works," Carol said.

Melodye moved to pull the pot back up just as Karen reappeared with the second bucket of hot water. Carol grabbed the rim.

"No, I've got it," Melodye said. "Don't strain yourself."

Carol let go of the pot and went back to her place scrubbing the clothes that had already been soaked to free them from the greatest part of their grime.

"Karen, can you help here?" Melodye asked, pulling back on the pot with her whole body weight, which only managed to tip it a little.

"Of course I can," Karen said, a little bitterly, "I've done everything else."

She grabbed ahold of the pot and pulled with Melodye until the large bowl was returned to its upright position. Melodye grabbed one of the buckets and began refilling the pot with fresh water.

"Want to tell everyone why you've got your ass on your shoulders today, Karen, or is it a secret?" Carol asked without looking up from what she was scrubbing.

Karen was moody, that much was just common knowledge around the prison. Some days she could be just as jovial as everyone else, but some days her bad mood washed over her without any warning, or at least seemingly so. She would suddenly have some sort of personal vendetta against anyone who crossed her path. Carol had heard Alice and Melodye teasing about it from time to time, taking turns diagnosing her with various medical explanations for her changing temperament.

"Oh, let's see," Karen said sarcastically as she made her way over to where the baskets of dirty clothes and sheets were piled up and heaving up one of the baskets. "Karen, carry all of the laundry baskets and the water buckets…we don't want Carol doing the heavy lifting. Karen, empty and refill the washtubs, we don't Carol straining herself…Karen, bring in the pots from the meals, they're too heavy for Carol to carry. I guess I'm just a little sick of picking up the slack around here because you're busy being pregnant when you've really got no business doing it."

Melody filled the pot with the second bucket and stood with her hands on her hips, obviously assessing if she should handle the situation or if Carol was going to do it. These kinds of run ins were easier when Alice was there because the only person that Karen seemed to dislike more than Carol was Alice, and Alice loved it. She thrived off pissing Karen off, so the two of them could go at almost constantly while any chore was being done.

"I'm sorry, Karen," Carol said. "I suppose it was insensitive of me to get pregnant without asking you how it affected your life."

Melodye almost laughed. Carol's countenance hadn't changed. It was as if she had no interest in anything other than the clothes she was scrubbing. Meanwhile Karen looked like all the blood in her body had just run to her face.

"It isn't just me, you know," Karen said, dropping the basket of clothes next to Melodye who quickly picked them up and dumped them into the hot water, poking them down with the boat paddle. "It really inconveniences everyone. It's become a priority for Daryl. Now he can't focus on the things that he needs to focus on to keep the entire group safe because he has to focus his attention on you."

"I suspect that Daryl chooses where Daryl's attention is focused," Carol said, tossing some of the scrubbed clothes into the water they used for rinsing. "Whenever we're done here, we need fresh water for rinsing the clothes, but take your time. I want you to feel better when you go to get it."

"That's cute," Karen said, going for one of the buckets. "You think if you pretend it isn't a big deal then it isn't. That's really cute."

"Karen," Melodye said, finally deciding she was going to intervene a little, "would you like to talk about _why_ you feel this anger toward Carol? Or toward anybody really? I'm pretty good at talking these things out with people, and we've got a lot of time here. There are still three baskets to go."

"The sad thing is that neither of you are taking this seriously," Karen said. "We have all seen that there are madmen out there. The Governor may be dead, but he's not the only crazy person out there. If something else happens we need everyone working together and Daryl's one of our strongest members. The last thing we need is for him to be distracted by something like this and end up getting killed or getting the rest of us killed."

"Actually," Melodye said, "that argument could work the other way around. You could see this as Daryl has even more motivation to keep the group safe because now he's got another life to think about, and it's one that he's really interested in protecting."

"Now Mel," Carol said, "you know that would be the optimistic way of looking at things, and babies should never inspire optimism. It sounds much better the way that Karen phrases it."

Melodye snickered, unable to control herself.

Karen huffed and disappeared inside with the bucket.

"Boy you're feeling better," Melodye said. "Last week you'd have bawled over that."

Carol shrugged and moved positions to rinse the clothes that she'd recently scrubbed.

"I don't know what it is, but I _do_ feel better. I guess it's just hormones or something, like everything else, but I just feel…I don't know…_happy_ right now. Not even Karen's sour mood is bugging me. Besides, she'll get over it. She just needs to stomp and snort for a little while," Carol said.

"Mommy mind," Melodye said, stirring at the soaking clothes.

"Beg your pardon?" Carol asked. Melodye chuckled.

"Well, I have this theory, it's not scientific or anything, just my own theory, that when women who _want_ babies, or at least don't _mind_ the idea of having them get pregnant, they go into this state of mommy mind. It's a happy place and it's fueled by the fact that they're pregnant and they're happy about the fact that they're going to have a baby. Those are the mothers that you always see glowing and smiling when they're pregnant. Then there are the ones that aren't truly nuts about the idea, and they're a little bitterer about it when they're pregnant because they don't have a mommy mind. I love babies and I've always wanted one, so I'd be like you are. Alice, for instance, loves babies, but she would never want to actually have any of her own. She's more the type that wants to borrow yours for about fifteen minutes and then give it back. She'd be the bitter, angry mother the whole time," Melodye explained.

"Hmm…" Carol said. "I don't know…maybe you're right. I think I was different with Sophia though." She got up and started hanging up some of the clothes that she had rinsed out while Melodye moved the soaking clothes over to the pan for scrubbing. Karen reappeared a moment later and changed the water in the rinsing pan.

"We're going to need clean scrubbing water," Melodye said just as Karen emptied the bucket. She snorted a little when Karen let out a disgruntled sigh and turned, bucket in hand. Carol looked over her shoulder and caught Melodye's eye, smiling a little before turning back to what she was hanging out. When Melodye had moved the clothes and put another basketful in to soak, she joined Carol to hang out those that needed to be hung.

"Here's the funny part," Carol said. "We're living in a world gone mad. There are dead people or _things_ or whatever they are chewing at fences not eight feet from here. We don't even know if any of the Governor's old lackeys are going to come knocking at the prison gates, and I feel more optimistic about this baby than I did when I was pregnant with Sophia. How fucked up is that?"

Melodye's eyes went wide for a moment. She'd never heard Carol use much coarse language. After she settled into it, though, apparently choosing to ignore it, she shrugged.

"Maybe it has to do with _who_ you're having the baby with more than it has to do with the environmental circumstances," Melodye said. The world around you sucks, but at least you know that within the context of that world you'll raise your kid with someone who's on your side."

Carol nodded.

"You might be right," she said. She'd told Melodye pretty much everything at this point about her life. The woman was easy to talk to and, at least, seemed to be entirely nonjudgmental. There were things that Carol had told her that she hadn't told Daryl. It wasn't so much that they were things that she was keeping from Daryl, but Melodye had actually tried to pull them out of her, whereas Daryl was happy with learning everything on a need to know basis. Carol thought, for now, that Melodye might be right. The timing and the circumstances surrounding the baby were terrible. If it was possible, they were even worse than when she'd had Sophia. At least when she'd had Sophia she'd been younger, her life had been physically easier, she had the benefit of modern medicine, and Ed had been the only real and tangible danger. Now she certainly couldn't say any of those things. Yet, she still felt better about this baby than she had Sophia, and knowing that Daryl was interested in it, even if he was having a hard time dealing with some of the details surrounding it, seemed to make it all that much easier to accept and even look forward to.

Karen reappeared and changed the washing water, moving the soggy clothes into the water that awaited whoever would be scrubbing against the old scrub board.

"What now?" She asked, huffing and standing.

"You can start checking for dry clothes," Carol said, "or you can start figuring out what we're going to make for lunch for everyone around here. Or, if you don't want to do that then you can scrub and I'll make lunch. The choice is yours since you're having such a bad day."

Carol dried her hands on her shirt and stood waiting for Karen to make a decision. Karen finally rolled her eyes.

"I'll do lunch. I'd rather be by myself right now anyhow," she said.

"Suit yourself," Carol said. She went back to start scrubbing clothes and Melodye took her place prodding at the soaking garments to try and prewash them as best she could.

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Daryl and Tyreese were almost done loading everything that Alice wanted into the semi that she'd moved for them. She figured it had just enough gas to get them to the other end of the community to raid a few houses, return to the prison, and then move it outside the prison gates with the other, which she had pulled near the prison fences to act as an extra barrier for a small part of the fence line.

She had identified quite a few things that she could make use of, but it still wasn't what Daryl had imagined it would be. Even though he'd seen what the house contained, and really didn't know what half of it was, he'd thought that the job would be far more monumental than it was shaping up to be.

Alice had passed through and pointed out what she wanted, but after that she'd left the heavy lifting to Daryl and Tyreese while she kept watch outside for any possible people or for approaching Walkers. When Daryl and Tyreese were passing through the door of the house with one of the final loads, Daryl noticed two Walkers approaching them. He whistled at Alice, but she was already pulling herself to her feet and heading after them. Daryl and Tyreese stopped a moment, not wanted to come down and perhaps entice the two to move any quicker than they were.

Daryl watched as Alice approached the Walkers and stabbed one in the eye with the knife that she was holding. As the other came and she wrenched her knife out of the skull of the crumpled one, Daryl noticed that she very visibly shuddered before bringing down the other, shuddering again at the sickening slurping noise of the knife freeing itself from the brainy, bony prison of the Walker's skull.

"Ya alright there?" Daryl called. Tyreese was chuckling to himself, letting Daryl know that he too had noticed the shuddering. They continued toward the truck as Alice made her way toward them.

"Just fuckin' lovely," she said, crinkling her nose as she wiped her blade on her pants.

"Ya lookin' a little squeamish," Daryl said. "I thought ya was a hard ass, not the kind ta be all pale over just a couple Walkers."

"Well then you have me sorely mistaken," Alice said. "I haven't liked dead things since I was eight and saw our cat Mrs. Claws get run over. Dead things creep me the fuck out, and this shit of the reanimated dead is like every fuckin' nightmare I ever had come true."

Daryl chuckled, as did Tyreese. They loaded the item they were carrying, though Daryl had no idea what it was, into the back of the truck. When they came back down the loading ramp, they stopped a moment to catch their breath.

"But yer a doctor," Daryl said, half grinning at the still disgusted look on Alice's face.

"And a damn fine one," Alice said. "And part of the fucking reason for that is that I don't like dead things, so I make it my personal mission in life to try to make sure that none of my patients end up becoming something dead that's going to freak me the fuck out. I nearly fucking died when we had to hack up dead bodies and shit in medical school. That's when I decided the fuckers weren't dying on my watch if I could help it."

"Well, I suppose that's the kind of philosophy I'd like any doctor of mine to have," Tyreese said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

"What is all this stuff, anyway?" Daryl asked, glancing into the back of the truck at all the things that she'd had them move out of the house.

"A lot of different stuff, really," Alice said. "I'm leaving anything I didn't know how to use in the first place, but I figure anything I can use is better to have and not need than to need and not have."

"Sounds like a pretty solid plan to me," Tyreese said. "We've got one more load and then we can move up front and check some of the houses."

"I want'cha stickin' close ta us in the houses, though. That's where we found your friend, and I got a feelin' that if we're gonna run into anyone else, that's where they gonna be hidin' out," Daryl said.

"You won't hear any complaints from me. I'd rather pack bags of shit than stand outside and deal with the fucking animated corpses that keep popping up around here," Alice said.

"Yeah, well, let's just be happy that's all the fuck we've seen so far. I'd a heap rather be dealin' with the dead bastards than with the livin' ones," Daryl said.

"Alright," Tyreese said, "let's go get what's left so we can get a move on. I'm starving and those granola bars for lunch didn't exactly take the edge off."

Daryl nodded and followed Tyreese back inside the house for the final time, leaving Alice on watch against Walkers or would-be threats.

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Though everyone expected it to be Daryl's group that got back first, the two unidentified delivery trucks that pulled toward the prison gates first were most assuredly not the semi that Alice had promised to be driving in.

Rick and Michonne waited at the gates and didn't offer to open them until the front truck was close enough that they could tell that Glenn was driving it. They hadn't expected them back so soon, but they pulled the gates open and allowed the two trucks to pass inside. When they'd come to a stop, Glenn and Maggie climbed out of the front truck with Sasha dropping out of the driver's side to the second.

"Didn't expect to see you three first," Rick said, making his way toward the arrivals.

We got as far as the town that's about two away from here," Glenn said, shading his eyes. He looked around as the others came out to inspect the situation and to offer assistance that would surely be needed to unload the two trucks. "There's a bit warehouse store over there, that's where we got the trucks."

"We tried to get a look inside and from what we could see it didn't look too picked over. The loading docks were packed with trucks too, could have more stuff there," Maggie said.

"So why didn't you drive another back?" Michonne asked, eyeing the two trucks that they had chosen.

"Thing is that it's crawling with Walkers," Glenn said. "More than the three of us could handle. We barely got these two, but it could be worth it to take a larger group out and see if we can't move the stuff back here. They could have all kinds of stuff there."

Rick looked around at the rest of the group. No one really seemed like they were going to respond in any way, so he nodded his head.

"When Daryl and his group get back we'll get organized. First thing tomorrow we can send a larger group after whatever we can get," he said.

"We can hold down the prison," Hershel said. "Nothing happened today and it's not likely that anything will happen tomorrow. I can stay here with Carl, Carol, Beth, and maybe Melodye. We'll keep the gates shut and it should be fine. The more people you take, the less dangerous the run will be."

Rick nodded again.

"We'll talk to the others, but I think you're right. If we can get a lot in one run then that means less time out there for anyone. Did you guys run into any trouble?" Rick asked.

Glenn shook his head.

"We didn't stop too many places. There was a guns and ammo place that we hit, but we didn't clear them out. We could swing back by there. A couple of pharmacies…a few other places that might be good to check out. The town doesn't look like it's been too picked over, at least not like the other one we passed through," Glenn said.

"There was hardly anything left in the other one went through," Sasha added. "Place has been picked to the bones. We did see a few signs that people have been living there, but we never saw any actually people so we don't know if they're still in the area or if it's leftover from some passing camps."

Rick nodded again, obviously considering what they were saying.

"We won't stop there again. If it's picked through there's no need to risk running into someone dangerous there. We'll get organized and tomorrow we'll set out for the other town, bypass the empty one. Let's get these trucks unloaded for now. We'll need to get them out of the way before Daryl's group gets back because there's no telling how much they're bringing."

Everyone set to work unloading the trucks that Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha brought back. Judging just from the contents of those two small trucks, everyone was more than excited at the prospect of what a bigger hit on such a place might bring, provided that the Walkers were manageable enough not to overrun anyone in their group. Regardless of the possible danger, though, it was an opportunity that they couldn't pass up with winter on the horizon.


	41. Chapter 41

Glenn turned around just as Carol started through the door of the rickety guard tower.

"What are you doing?" He asked, crawling quickly across the floor to grab her by the arm and pull her the rest of the way in. "You shouldn't be up here. That ladder isn't the sturdiest thing in the world."

"I've been in the guard tower a few times since it was rebuilt," Carol said. "I think I got it."

"And if you fell? Or God forbid one of the boards on the ladder broke? Then I've got to explain to Daryl what happened. He doesn't even like when I get close to something that belongs to him, I don't even want to know how he'd react if he thought you got broken on my watch," Glenn said. He moved back to where he'd been sitting before her appearance so that he had a better view of the road that they were supposed to be coming in on.

"Have you seen anything yet?" Carol asked, ignoring Glenn and moving across the tower to take a seat beside him. Glenn turned to her and shook his head.

"Nothing yet," he said.

Carol didn't want to admit that she was starting to freak out. Everyone had been working on unloading and organizing the things that Glenn's group brought back from their run, but really she hadn't been able to concentrate on any of it. The only thing she'd been able to think about was the fact that the time was passing and there had been no sign of Daryl's group, even though they predicted they'd be the first ones back. It was supposed to be a simple in and out run, not even filled with all the unknown factors that Glenn's group was gearing up to possibly encounter.

She'd made a promise to herself, though, that she was going to hold it together. Somehow she was going to remain calm until there was a reason to panic. She wasn't sure now, though, what exactly was supposed to constitute as her reason to panic. The fact that they'd missed dinner could be considered a reason to panic, or the fact that now it was beginning to get dark and there was still no sign of them. Still, Carol had determined that she wasn't going to panic as long as no one else was panicking, and right now no one was panicking. She had begun to wonder, though, if they weren't panicking for her benefit, in which case they were all going in some kind of circle.

Carol leaned back on her hands and watched the road. As the sun sank lower it was becoming more and more difficult to see it with any distinction. Down at the gates, Michonne was walking a steady patrol back and forth, clearing out Walkers that were gathering there, spurred on by the night.

"Are you worried?" Glenn asked.

Carol took a deep breath and considered what she should respond to that question. It was Glenn, and he was pretty sensitive to how anyone was feeling in any given situation. She didn't have to keep as much hidden from him as she would have Rick or somebody else like Rick that would immediately move into trying to comfort her when there was really no comfort that was going to work until those gates opened to allow them into the prison.

"A little," Carol said. Glenn looked at her, a little worry on his own face, and nodded.

"I'm sure they're going to be fine," Glenn said.

"Don't patronize me," Carol said. "I said I was worried, not that I needed to be talked down off a ledge," she warned. "I'm only admitting it to you because I thought you wouldn't be the kind to try to tell me that everything's going to be fine."

"Sorry," Glenn said. "I was saying it as much for my benefit as for yours, if that helps."

"So you're worried too?" Carol asked.

"I mean Daryl's good at taking care of things, and Tyreese is too. I don't know much about Alice's skills against Walkers, but it seems like we're not real good at catching a break lately," Glenn said. "The whole time we were out today it's like we were all looking over our shoulders the whole time, just waiting for the shoe to fall."

Carol nodded a little, unsure of what to say to make either one of them feel any better. Glenn was telling the truth. None of them were very good at catching breaks these days. It had been one thing after another. The Governor had more or less had a reign of terror and in some way or another they'd all suffered from it. Now it was something different. Now they were constantly afraid of something else, of the Walkers, of another Governor, of the possible survivors out there.

"They're going to make it back," Carol said with a sigh.

"Maybe…" Glenn started and stopped his sentence. Then he suddenly picked it up again, as if he'd only needed a second more to think about what he was going to say. "Maybe they just got caught somewhere, you know? Maybe they decided to wait out a herd or something? They're just a little later than we expected."

Carol sat up and shifted around. The guard tower floor wasn't very comfortable, but neither were the chairs they'd wrestled up the ladder. She crawled across the floor until she was against the wall, leaning back and looking out in the same direction they'd been watching. She absentmindedly rubbed her belly, trying to focus on anything but what they were waiting for. Glenn, thankfully, seemed to understand that she didn't want to discuss it and he sat quietly keeping watch.

Carol had gotten lost in a daydream for a little bit, far away for a moment from the chilly wind that seeped into the poorly built structure and reminded them that colder days were ahead. She was only snapped out of it by Glenn stirring. She looked up and he was getting to his feet.

"I think that's them!" Glenn said. "I think I see them!"

Carol got to her feet and came to stand beside him. Looking out in the direction of the road she could see faint lights appearing, dancing in the darkness. She started toward the door of the tower.

"Wait!" Glenn called. She stopped. "I'll go down first," Glenn said.

"I've never understood that," Carol said. "It's a ladder, it's not like you're going to be able to stop me if I fall off of it."

"Maybe not," Glenn said, "but at least I'll break your fall a little, and that'll make Daryl feel better."

Carol sighed and waited for Glenn to start down. She followed behind him. When he reached the ground he reached his hands up and put them around her waist, holding them there until she'd planted both of her feet on the ground.

"Thank you, those last three steps were the hardest," Carol said. Glenn looked at her, a little bothered and she smiled at him. "I'm sorry, you were just trying to help."

"No sweat," Glenn said, starting across the yard with her beside him. Now that the lights were approaching it was very clear that it most likely _was_ their prodigal group members. The lights on the front vehicle could almost only belong to the kind of truck that Alice would have stolen, and there were two sets of headlights following just behind that. As Carol and Glenn got closer, Michonne pulled open the gates and started the work of keeping back the approaching Walkers that might try to slip inside while the trucks pulled through and into the yard. All three of the trucks pulled into the yard and up to the prison, just where Glenn's group had parked theirs earlier, before anyone shut off their engines.

By now people were beginning to file out of the prison to welcome back the late arrivals. Alice was the first to drop down from her truck and Melodye was there waiting on her when she did. Carol jogged in the direction of the other two trucks, trying to figure out which one held Daryl. It wasn't until he swung the door open and climbed out that she spotted him and rushed to him, wrapping her arms around him. He chuckled a little and squeezed her.

"Ya act like ya happy ta see me," Daryl said. He leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.

"What happened?" She asked. Even in the dark she could smell the heavy stench of Walker all over him, and she imagined it was all over Tyreese and Alice as well, though the outlines that she could see of them in the failing light didn't give enough detail to confirm it.

"Just got slowed down a little, woman, nothin' serious," Daryl said.

"What kind of trouble?" Rick asked, approaching.

"Small herd," Tyreese responded. "We were almost ready to head out. We had all three trucks loaded, went in to get the last few boxes of things we found and we heard 'em coming."

"So we waited ta get a good look at 'em, decided we could take 'em, an' we was busy for a while after that," Daryl said.

"You fought a herd?" Melodye asked suddenly. Carol glanced over her shoulder and could tell that she was staring at Alice who had her arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"No sweat, right boys?" Alice said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, no sweat at all," Daryl said.

Carol knew that they were bluffing. All three of them. It was easier to act calm and collected _after_ you'd won the fight against a bunch of Walkers, that came naturally. Exhilaration kept you from showing how you felt while you were fighting. It was terrifying for her, though, to think about the fact that all three of them had been fighting against so many of the creatures.

"What if you'd gotten bitten?" Carol asked. Daryl chuckled and squeezed her shoulder.

"We ain't got bit, don't'cha go worryin' 'bout it now," Daryl said. "They weren't all that many. Me an' Ty coulda done it ourselves."

"Hey!" Alice called.

"Not sayin' ya weren't a great help nor nothin', just sayin' it weren't some kinda impossible herd ta take down," Daryl said.

"Just make sure you give the credit where the credit is due," Alice called back at him.

"How 'bout some food? Ya got any a' that? We ain't eat since lunch," Daryl said.

"I could go for something to eat," Tyreese said.

"We saved food. Let's go get you something to eat and then you can get washed up," Carol said, hugging Daryl again.

They all passed inside to listen to more of their adventures and to welcome the three back. The relief was showing on everyone's face, and Carol felt better, sitting beside Daryl while he ate, to think that she hadn't been the only one that had been concerned. Lately she'd had a hard time distinguishing whether or not her feelings about things were justified or were a result of the Governor, or of hormones, or if she was going crazy. Now, though, she realized she'd simply felt as concerned as everyone else had.

There wasn't any reason to worry right now, though, because they were all back and they were all unharmed. They'd caught a break after all.

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"I don't want you going back out there," Carol said. She was standing in the cell holding all the clothes that she'd collected together for her and Daryl to go to the showers. He was stripping out of his boots to avoid doing it once they got there.

"Don't start that," Daryl said. "Ya know I gotta go if everyone is goin'."

"I didn't say you _couldn't_ go," Carol said. "I said I didn't _want_ you to go, and I'm allowed to not want you to go on runs that could have you risking your neck."

"We're all going, Carol, it's not going to be that big of a deal. That's a lot of manpower when you get most of the group together," Daryl argued.

"I know that," Carol said, "but we don't know what you're going to run into. The place is crawling with Walkers, that's what they said. And that doesn't even begin to cover the possibility of other people."

Daryl stood up and walked over to her, kissing her on the top of the head and then resting his hands on her shoulders for a moment.

"Ya worry too damn much," he said.

"And you don't worry enough," Carol said. He smiled at her.

"Come on, let's go get a shower so we can get some rest. We gotta sort out a lotta shit tomorrow ta get ready for the run ya don't want me goin' on," Daryl said. He started out the cell and Carol sighed, following along behind him.

They'd agreed not to go on the run the next day, giving everyone some time to rest and settle down from the day's activities, but they were still planning it, and Daryl and Tyreese had agreed with the plan to send in the most man power they could at once to lessen the risks and bring back as much as possible in one load. The night was colder than it had been, and it was all too real a reminder that wintering in the prison wasn't going to be the most pleasant thing they'd ever done, though it would be better by far than wintering on the run.

Daryl pushed open the doors to the showers and Carol stepped in behind him. She was looking at the ground more than at her surroundings, and she almost ran into him when he stopped.

"Christ!" Daryl spat. Carol's head snapped up.

Alice was standing there, butt naked, hanging a shower curtain. Melodye giggled from behind one of the shower partitions. They weren't very high, on Carol they barely came a little above waist high. Carol laughed at Daryl's reaction, now that he had his hand over his eyes.

"You're fuckin' naked!" Daryl said.

Alice stopped trying to hang the curtain for a moment and looked over at both of them, Daryl with his hands over his eyes, and Carol standing behind him trying not to fall into a fit of laughter.

"It's a bad habit I have," Alice said. "I've been bathing naked since I was a kid and my mom was washing my ass. I guess it's a hard habit to break. You shower fully clothed?"

"I thought ya heard me say we was goin' ta take a shower," Daryl said, still not moving.

"I did," Alice said.

"Then what tha fuck ya doin' butt ass naked?" Daryl asked.

"I'm covered in rotting ick," Alice said. "I think I'm hanging a shower curtain so that I can wash this shit off in peace, but I'm not sure. What do _you_ think I'm doing?"

"Ya don't fuckin' care that ya paradin' around for God an' everybody else ta see?" Daryl asked. "Ain't right!"

"No, I don't care," Alice said. "You got a damn kid on the way. I've seen Carol naked, there isn't anything here that you haven't seen before. Everybody in this prison has either got what I got, seen what I got, or if they haven't, then I volunteer myself for a learning experience. If you'll stop being such a baby about shit and hang one of these damn curtains then all you'll have to see beside what's going on in your stall are some cute little rubber duckies singing in the rain."

"Come on, Daryl," Carol said, grabbing him by the arm and guiding him over toward one of the benches. "She's almost got the curtain hung and then I'll help you hang ours. It's going to be alright." She was still fighting back a laugh at his shocked reaction. She hadn't been expecting it either, but apparently it was far less tragic for her than it had been for him.

"We're behind curtain number two now," Alice called out. Carol heard the water turn on just as she was putting their clothes down on the bench next to Alice and Melodye's. Alice had put three fairly wadded up shower curtains there.

"These were a good idea," Carol said. "Where'd y'all get them?"

"Aren't they great?" Alice called. "I snatched 'em out some of the houses that the pod people had been living in. I figured a little privacy around here never hurt anyone. Apparently some people around this prison are really sensitive to seeing other people's goodies. Myself, I like a good show every now and again."

Carol giggled again and took one of the curtains. Daryl sighed and moved to a stall two away from Alice and Melodye to help her hang it.

"So now y'all just gon' stand down here an' talk ta each other while ya take a shower?" Daryl asked.

"Well, if there's more than one of us in here," Carol said.

"Rather take showers by ourselves," Daryl grumbled. Carol smiled at him and fastened her side of the curtain into place, realizing that she was going to have to help Daryl. He was good at a lot of things, but he was fumbling with the shower hooks.

"Calm down, loverboy," Alice called. "We'll be out of here in a second and you can desecrate all the shower stalls you want. My only goal here is not to smell like I've been dead for about a year and a half."

Daryl blushed a little and Carol moved to his side of the curtain to finish hanging it.

"Go ahead and take your clothes off," Carol said. "I'll run them out to the bench and come back."

"So now ya just gon' go prancin' 'round naked too?" Daryl asked. Carol shrugged at him.

"Alice has seen me naked," Carol said. "You've seen me naked. I suppose the only one who hasn't is Mel." She stood there a minute watching him shuck out of his clothes as quickly as he could. "Mel, if I take my clothes off outside the shower, are you going to be looking?"

"Probably," Melodye said. "That's what I do, hide behind shower curtains and peep at people."

Alice cackled and Carol laughed in response to the cackle as much as she did the joke. Daryl was the only one that looked uncomfortable with the entire situation.

"It's fine, Daryl," Carol said, taking his clothes. "No one can see you in here and I'll be right back." She rushed to the bench and quickly shed her own clothes, slipping back to the stall where Daryl had started up the water. They bathed, switching places under the water, no one speaking. Finally the water shut off in the shower near them and they could hear as Alice and Melodye dressed and slipped out of the room. "We're alone now," Carol said.

"Finally," Daryl said. Carol smiled at him and he pulled her close to him. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, not noticing the water running down him and over her.

"I'm glad that nothing bad happened today," Carol said.

"I told ya I'd come back," Daryl said. "I always come back, Carol. It's what I do. Besides, I wouldn't wanna deal with ya ass if I didn't come back. What about your day? Ain't nothin' happen here?"

"No," Carol said. She yawned and started to realize just how tired she was. "Nothing happened. It was just a normal day."

"The good kind," Daryl said. Carol pulled away and smiled at him.

"Yeah, the good kind," she said.

Daryl stood there awkwardly a moment and Carol smiled again. He was aroused, as often happened to him in the shower, and there was simply no hiding it.

"Do you want to take care of that?" She asked, cutting her eyes up at him. Daryl blushed a little.

"Let's go back ta the cell," Daryl said. "Floor's slick as hell in here an' I sure as shit don't wanta bust my ass an' hurt ya in the process."

Carol looked down again. She nodded.

"You can carry the dirty clothes," she said. "Might be a little bit of camouflage for your…condition."

"Shut it, woman. Just 'cause ya think this shit is funny, don't mean ya gotta go givin' me a hard time," Daryl said. "Ya damn women got it easy. You can be horny all damn day long and can't nobody tell it."

Carol could tell that Daryl wasn't really annoyed. He was teasing her more than anything, perhaps hoping that she'd squabble with him a little. He liked pecking back and forth at each other, and she didn't mind it either when they did it in good fun.

"We've got it easy?" She asked, raising her eyebrows at him. "Really, Daryl? You think this," she gestured at her belly, "is having it easy? Do you know how babies get out?"

Daryl grinned at her and pulled her to him, kissing her.

"I reckon ya win this round," Daryl said. "Let's get tha fuck back ta the cell for I die over here."

Daryl reached around and shut the water off and Carol slipped through the curtain. She was almost dressed before he was done drying off.

"I thought you were in a hurry," she said, sitting down on the bench and watching as Daryl wrestled into his clothes.

"You sure is in rare form tonight," Daryl said, cutting his eyes at her. She smiled at him.

"Well, you were the one that was rushing back to the cell. There was a perfectly good bathroom available here to do whatever you wanted to do. I just thought you might be in a bit more of a hurry to get back to the cell than all this," Carol said.

"Get up!" Daryl said, pulling his shirt over his head and balling up all their dirty clothes. "Get'cha ass back ta the cell 'fore that mouth a' yours gets ya in trouble."

Carol smiled and started toward the cell, Daryl walking just behind her. The closer they got to the cell, the faster Daryl walked, nearly stepping on the back of her feet. She sped up her own steps to match his and he further increased his own, grinning at her. By the time they made it back to the cell, they were both almost running and Carol had lost the ability to stifle the giggles that had been rising in her throat since the first time she'd looked back to see that he was doing it all on purpose.

"No running in the halls, kids," Rick called out.

"Shit," Daryl said. "Can't go no damn where 'round here without somebody's smart ass mouth."

Carol ducked into the curtain of the cell, panting a little from their jog, and sat down on the bed. Daryl came through the curtain and threw the wad of dirty clothes into the basket for them to wash later. He immediately began shucking off the clothes he'd only recently wrestled into. Carol watched him, noting that his hair was still wet and water that had once been wetting his shirt was now running down his chest.

"You need a haircut," Carol said. Daryl ignored her until he was completely out of his clothes, then he made his way toward her. She turned only slightly, holding back laughing at him. The look on his face was hilarious to her. It was clear that he was in a good mood and it was clear exactly what he had on his mind.

"Don't need no haircut, woman," he said, reaching her. He slipped his hands under her arms for a moment almost as if he were going to pick her up and then he pushed her back on the bed, crawling over her. "What'cha still got'cha damn clothes on for?"

Carol pulled at her shirt and he let her up enough to get it over her head, helping her the last little bit. His mouth met hers, but he pulled away when she couldn't stifle it and laughed into his mouth. He snickered in response and took her nipple into his mouth, biting down hard enough to get her attention.

"Oh," she said, the giggle gone simply by the sensation running over her. She felt Daryl snaking his hands into her pants, grabbing her ass and pulling her up into him. She ground against him and he groaned, moving his mouth to the other nipple. She ground against him again.

"Stop that shit or get'cha damn pants off," Daryl growled, bringing his mouth next to her ear and nipping at her earlobe when he'd finished his sentence.

She wanted to take her pants off, but she was almost too overwhelmed at the moment to even figure out how pants worked anymore. Daryl seemed to sense it and backed off of her a minute, planting his feet back on the floor. He grabbed the waist of her pajama pants and snatched them and her underwear off in one tug. She slid herself back on the mattress some just as he came back down on top of her, nipping at the tender skin on her neck. She moaned, burying her face into his collarbone when his teeth released her.

"This is takin' too damn long," he growled. Carol responded only by shifting under him to free her left leg, which was trapped against her right. She wrapped her legs around him and a moment later he thrust into her without warning. She buried her fingers in his back, bucking back against him. "Ya alright?" He asked.

She bit her lip and mumbled, bucking again. Daryl responded, understanding that she was confirming that she was better than alright in the moment. Carol rode out the experience lost in the confusion of flesh, lips, and teeth. Nothing about it had been well orchestrated, and neither of them were any less clumsy than teenager rooting around in the backseat of a car. It didn't matter, though. Their rhythm, no matter how chaotic it may have been to anyone with more experience than the two of them had put together, worked for them, and both of them came together. Carol tried to muffle her own screams, but Daryl didn't bother, protected as he was from the prying ears of others by the blanket that Carol knew that he somehow figured was magical enough to mask even the loudest of noises.

When they finally broke apart, she lie there, panting. Daryl swiped his hair out of his face with his hand and dropped beside her, kissing her shoulder and looking at her expectantly. She wondered for a moment if he was waiting to be congratulated, though she felt, in the moment, as though he deserved some sort of praise.

"Thank you," she said finally, smiling at him. He smiled at her, and she realized that he had been waiting for some sort of recognition. He leaned over her and kissed her again.

"Thank you, too," he said.

Now that she was coming down off her high, Carol became aware that the prison air was chilly, especially with the drying layer of sweat on her skin. She shivered a little.

"Ya cold?" Daryl asked. She nodded. "Then get under the blanket," he said, lifting himself up and pulling up the part of the blanket that was under him. Carol got out of the bed and slid under her side of the blanket, warming immediately from the body heat trapped under it. "Gon' sleep good tonight," Daryl said, resting his head on the pillow. Carol burrowed in next to him and pushed herself against him until he finally put his arm around her and pulled her in as tight as he could. She yawned.

"Always do," she said, "as long as you're here."

"Well, I weren't plannin' on goin' nowhere," Daryl said.

Carol smiled to herself and closed her eyes. Daryl would be asleep in a matter of minutes, and she was feeling drowsy herself. She must have fallen asleep more quickly than she thought she would, because she never heard him start to snore.


	42. Chapter 42

"I ain't sure I like the idea of just leavin' 'em here alone," Daryl said.

"We'll only be gone half a day, not even overnight," Rick said.

Most of the group had gathered together in the dining room to discuss the run. They'd planned on doing it that day, but Daryl had his doubts about whether or not it was a good idea. They had decided, then to put it off until they could all feel confident about it. Now it was nearing dinner time and Rick thought it was as good a time as any to call a meeting if they hoped to salvage the next day for the run. Carol sat beside Daryl, holding his hand under the table. She hadn't voiced her opinion other than to tell him in private that she didn't want him going, and he knew that was more out of worry for him than it was for worry that they'd be attacked.

"Yeah, but we gon' leave Mel here, Hershel, Carl, Beth, and Carol?" Daryl asked. "Beth can't fight, she can't even function. No offense, Hershel, but do you really think you could protect any of 'em if someone was ta come an' was determined ta get in?"

"No offense taken," Hershel said. "I think we could fight if we had to, but I was thinking it would be better if we just locked the gates and laid low until you got back. We could stay inside. Carl and Melodye could take turns on watch, but other than that there'd be no need to go out."

"I get that you're worried, Daryl," Glenn offered, "but we don't have any reason at all to believe that anyone would try anything. The Governor's dead and whether or not he really has groupies out there is just speculation. If we go in as a group, we stand a better chance against the Walkers and we can get more in one raid than we could in probably two weeks' worth of trips if we go a couple of people at a time."

Daryl shook his head. Carol knew that he was conflicted, and she felt bad about it. Daryl never would have hesitated on a run like this before. He was all about going and doing what needed to be done. She felt guilty that now he was the one that held them up on going out today on a run that everyone else seemed sold on.

"Daryl," she said, "I think we'll be fine. We'll stay inside like Hershel said. We wouldn't even have to fight anyone unless they got inside." She squeezed his hand underneath the table and he tightened his fingers around hers.

"Mel's a good shot," Alice offered. "She won some skeet shooting contests back in high school. I'd never take her on a run, she'd break her neck, but she can shoot."

"Thank you for that vote of confidence, Al," Melodye said, cutting her eyes at Alice.

"We ain't talkin' 'bout no damn clay pigeons," Daryl said. "We could be talkin' 'bout some crazy ass men with guns. We don't know who the hell is out there."

"And we don't know what we could run into on the run, either," Maggie said. "It's safer in here than it is out there. I hate the idea of leaving Daddy and Beth here too, but the best use of man power is on the run."

"What if we left one person here?" Rick asked. "Someone that could act as an extra line of defense in the chance that something happened while we were gone?"

"Who ya gonna leave?" Daryl asked.

"Our biggest known threat out there right now is Walkers," Glenn said, "that means we need people who are good at handling large numbers of Walkers. Whether or not people show up here or they show up there, we know the Walkers are waiting."

"Well, I'm not the fastest with Walkers," Tyreese said. "I can stay behind and act as a guard."

"You're not real good with a gun, either," Sasha said.

"It's like Glenn said, though, you know you're going out there to face Walkers. I could be here just shooting the shit all day. No need for a gun for all that," Tyreese said.

"What do you think about that, Daryl?" Rick asked.

"Well…" Daryl said, obviously taking his time to think about it. He sighed and turned to Carol. "Would you feel safe if we left Tyreese here with y'all?"

Carol tried to read Daryl's thoughts, but as usual her ability to read minds just wasn't working today. The truth was she didn't feel like anything was going to happen, but she appreciated the idea of leaving someone there in case it did. The other side to the coin was that there were few people that she actually felt safe with these days, and realistically she knew it wasn't reasonable to ask Daryl or Michonne to stay behind on a run where they needed the best and the fastest Walker killers that the group had to offer. Finally she decided that agreeing to have Tyreese there was more for Daryl's benefit than her own. If he felt like the man offered some protection, then she'd accept it.

"I think that Tyreese would do a fine job of helping us out if anything were to happen," she said finally. She tried to set her face so that Daryl wouldn't question her. He studied her for a minute and then looked a little more relieved than he had before.

"Fine," he said, "I reckon that I'd feel better if Tyreese stayed here an' looked out for things."

Rick nodded his head and smiled a little.

"It's settled then. The rest of us leave at sun up tomorrow morning. We bring back everything we can and hopefully we don't need to do much more to get this place ready for winter," he said.

Carol squeezed Daryl's hand again and then pushed her chair back, getting up as everyone else started to move about.

"I've got some chores that need to be taken care of," she said to Daryl as he stood up.

"I got watch," he said.

Alice walked up close to both of them, apparently having been listening to their exchange.

"Neither of you go too far," she said. "I've got a little more playing with my toys to do and then I have an appointment with Carol." She turned to Daryl. "I want you to be close by because I'm sending Melodye to get you. I've got a surprise for both of you."

"The hell ya up to?" Daryl asked.

"Now if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?" Alice asked.

Daryl sighed, but Carol smiled at her.

"I'll be just outside," Carol said. "You can find me when you're ready for me."

"I'll be in the guard tower," Daryl said.

Alice nodded at them and disappeared. Daryl had no idea what the woman was up to. They'd brought in all the stuff that she'd wanted and she'd spent a while unloading it and getting Tyreese to move stuff around. They'd been down there since early that morning. They had the generators hooked up now, and they'd figured out how to power two of the offices in D block. She'd transformed them into her own little mad scientist workshop, or at least that's what Daryl figured it to be.

Daryl kissed Carol quickly and headed toward the door to go and finish the watch he'd been on with Glenn when Rick had asked them to come down for the meeting. He knew that Carol's "chores" were most likely dinner since everyone would start wondering when the meal would come. He was a little hungry himself, and he'd learned that his stomach had grown very accustomed to the regular feeding schedule that their group had established.

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"So tell me the truth," Glenn said, sitting across the tower from Daryl, "are you happy about the kid?"

"Ain't gon' have no heart ta heart with ya," Daryl said. "Ain't gon' paint ya toenails neither. We're supposed ta be on watch."

"We are on watch," Glenn said, obviously not deterred. "What I don't understand is how it happened. I mean you took all those condoms. What happened? I want those back, by the way, since you're obviously not using them. Did one break?"

"Do ya ever shut up?" Daryl growled. Glenn chuckled at him.

"There's nothing going on out there except for a few Walkers hanging around the fences and Michonne is getting rid of them about as fast as they can make it there to see what she's doing," Glenn said. "I'm just trying to pass the time."

"Do it without yappin'," Daryl said. "People 'round here feel like they gotta talk too damn much."

"Why are you so disagreeable?" Glenn asked. "All I asked was if you were happy about the baby. Nobody really talks about it. I mean we all know it's there, and Carol's starting to show, but you never really talk about it."

"What'cha want me ta say?" Daryl asked.

"Are you happy about it?" Glenn asked.

Daryl shrugged. He didn't really know if he was happy about it or not. Maybe happy wasn't the word he would use. Maybe it was just the word "happy" itself that threw him off. He felt like since he'd been with Carol he was trying to figure out all these words that people threw around and sometimes they didn't make sense to him. "Love", "happy", "husband", "daddy", "baby"…all these words seemed to circle around in his head. They fell out of people's mouths, they were thrown at him, and he even turned them over and over in his own brain trying to figure out if they really fit or not.

He loved Carol, or at least he'd decided now that love was apparently the only word that he could use, though he wasn't quite sure that it was the right one. The baby was something that he had never expected, but he thought that he wanted it. Part of him, though, was still unsure what to do with it when he got it. Right now he knew it was there, but he didn't know it was there. There was something growing inside Carol, that much was obvious. She talked about it and rubbed her belly a lot. He gave in to her and rubbed it sometimes too, but it still seemed so strange to believe that there was a kid in there. To Daryl it just seemed like she was fatter, though he'd learned that she didn't like that word. Apparently underneath that was his kid. Some kind of tiny little baby that was eventually going to end up being the size of Lil' Asskicker, and it was going to keep getting bigger after that. Glenn wanted to know if he was happy about it, but right now he just felt confused about the whole damn thing.

"Yeah," Daryl said finally, "it's fuckin' wonderful. Can we shut up now?" He wished the kid knew when to quit talking.

"Carol seems happy about it," Glenn said. "Do you know how far along she is?"

Daryl looked at him.

"How many months pregnant is she?" Glenn asked, making a face at Daryl.

"I don't know," Daryl said. "Alice don't talk about months, she talks about weeks, and most a' the time when Alice talks I try not ta listen. She's like you, she don't know when ta shut her mouth."

"Are you going to ask Carol to marry you?" Glenn asked.

Daryl looked at him again. He hadn't thought about that. Alice and Melodye called Carol his wife, even though he'd explained to both of them that they weren't married. Daryl had never thought of himself as the kind that would be married, but if marriage was what Carol explained it to be, then he figured they were about as married as they could get.

"I reckon she already did," Daryl said. Glenn looked at, confusion on his face.

"Did you get married in secret or something?" Glenn asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Ain't had no damn flowers an' shit, but I reckon it don't matter no way," Daryl said. Glenn smiled.

"Oh it might not matter to you, but it matters to women," Glenn said. "Even without the flowers and the cake and all that mess, they like the idea of making it official. Hershel's supposed to marry me and Maggie at the end of the month. You should ask Carol."

Daryl considered it. He'd never thought of doing the official business with her, having Hershel say words about them and all. He didn't know if that kind of thing meant anything to Carol, and it seemed silly to him. He'd figured Glenn and Maggie wanted to do it because they were a couple of kids, but he and Carol weren't kids.

"I don't reckon we need ta do it. Carol ain't said nothin' 'bout it," Daryl said.

"She's not supposed to," Glenn replied. "You're the man, that's your job. You should get her a ring."

"Ya mean go hackin' up Walker hands like you did?" Daryl asked. Everyone knew where Glenn had acquired the diamond that Maggie wore.

"Or get one on the run tomorrow. A big warehouse store like that typically has jewelry. I'm sure you could find something to grab for her," Glenn said. "She might really like it. Could make your life even more exciting, although I'd also snatch a little WD-40 if I were you. You're killing us at night with those squeaky ass springs."

Daryl felt his face burn a little and he curled his lip up at the boy. Now that Glenn had said it, though, he wondered if it really would mean something to Carol. If they were already married, then it wouldn't hurt to do all the words and shit if it was something that she'd like. He decided to tuck the thought away and see what he might could find at the store. It wasn't something that he had to decide on right now, no matter how much Glenn might try to insist on it.

Glenn looked like he was about to start another line of questioning and Daryl cringed. He couldn't even imagine where this conversation might go from here and he was already considering telling Rick that he wouldn't do watch anymore unless he could do it with someone like Michonne who understood that when it came to things like conversation, less was always more. They were suddenly interrupted, though, by Melody poking her head through the door.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you guys," she said, "but Alice asked me if I could steal Daryl for a few minutes."

Daryl looked at Glenn. Glenn simply shrugged at him.

"Go ahead," Glenn said. "I'm pretty sure that I can handle sitting up here and watching Michonne stab Walkers. You might send Maggie up, though, if she doesn't look too busy."

Daryl didn't respond. He simply got up and started out the door of the watchtower. Melodye had already started down the ladder and it didn't take him long to catch up with her. He followed her quietly into the prison, appreciating that she was less inclined to talk to him than either Glenn or her girlfriend.

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When Melodye led Daryl into Alice's new claimed lair, he was surprised to see that she had somewhat fixed it up into a believable looking doctor's office, complete with a bed she'd constructed out of a mattress on top of a table. Carol was sitting on the edge of the Alice-made bed with her back to the door. She turned a little when he walked and smiled at him.

"So she found ya?" Alice said. Daryl walked over beside Carol and watched Alice. She was drawing blood out of Carol's arm with some focus. She glance up a second. "You OK, Carol?" She asked. She looked quickly at Daryl. "How about get behind her, just in case she goes out on me. I'm not taking much, but our diets don't exactly hit the spot around here all the time."

Daryl stepped behind Carol and put his hand on her back. He wasn't sure what he was doing there or what he was supposed to do, so he was a little relieved to have some kind of position.

"What'cha doin' that for?" He asked.

Alice finished what she was doing and Daryl watched as Carol bent her arm up, per Alice's instruction.

"I've got a little lab equipment," Alice said. "Just running a few tests. I can't do everything I'd like, but a little knowledge is better than nothing, right? Mel…can you run upstairs and see if you can't scrounge up a granola bar or some crackers or something for Carol? She's looking a little more loopy than I'd like."

"I'm fine," Carol said. "Just a little light headed."

"I'm not really surprised," Alice said. "You can lie down for me now. Daryl, can you help her?"

Daryl helped Carol lie down on the makeshift bed. Alice fumbled around, moving things and rearranging them. He couldn't help but think that she looked different right now than she normally did. A little more serious perhaps. He supposed that she was in some kind of zone, probably feeling the same way he felt when he was out hunting. Being in the woods made him feel in his element and made him feel like he had a job to do. That was probably how Alice felt now that she was surrounded by all this shit that doctors needed to do whatever they had to do.

Alice drug one of the big machines that they'd carried in over close to the bed. She had it turned on and Daryl looked at it.

"Fuck is that?" Daryl asked.

"It's an ultrasound machine," Carol answered before Alice could even speak. "It lets you see the baby."

Daryl looked at her and wrinkled his brow. He couldn't figure out how the hell they were supposed to see this kid if it was busy growing inside of Carol. Still, she looked like she was pretty damn happy about it, and Alice was smiling too.

"Yep, now let's see if I have it hooked up right. Pants down and shirt up. Let me see this belly you're so proud of," Alice said.

Daryl watched as Carol wiggled around pushing down the elastic band of her pants. She pulled her shirt up and then lie back again. She reached over and pulled at his hand, so he offered it to her. She squeezed it and he looked at her. She had the other hand under her head and she was smiling at him. Daryl thought he was supposed to feel happy right now, that word that Glenn was so damn fond of, but the truth was he felt a little nauseous and wasn't sure why.

Alice burrowed around in a box of stuff that she had and came up with some stuff that she squirted on Carol's stomach.

"That's cold," Carol said. Daryl felt her shiver a little.

"Yeah it is," Alice said. "It's kind of cold in here in general. Hope we don't get some snow or anything or we're all going to be ice skating in the prison."

Daryl watched as she put some kind of wand on Carol's stomach and toyed around with the buttons on her strange machine. Suddenly Daryl heard the machine making a weird noise. It was a whooshing sound that it hadn't been making before and he wondered if Alice really knew how to work it or if she'd broken the thing.

"That's what I wanted!" Alice said suddenly. Daryl looked at her, and then looked at Carol. He didn't have the slightest damn idea what was going on, but Alice looked excited and Carol was crying now, wiping at her nose with her sleeve. Daryl looked back at Alice just as her eyes darted up to catch his. She smiled again.

"That's your baby's heartbeat," Alice said. "Loud and clear!"

"Don't sound like no heartbeat to me," Daryl said. The sound was certainly not what he heard when he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, and it didn't sound like Carol's heart when he rested his head on her chest.

"Eh…they sound a little different than ours, but that's what the hell it is," Alice said. She pointed to the screen. "I can't read these damn things for shit, but I can tell you that the little flashing dot there, that's the baby's heart."

Daryl looked at the screen. He couldn't make anything out on the screen. He could see the little dot, though.

"That s'posed ta be the baby?" Daryl asked.

"Yep," Alice said.

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the screen again. He hoped that wasn't the baby. If it was they had a very big problem. That most certainly didn't look like a baby. Heartbeat or not, he was having some very serious doubts about this kid right now.

"What's wrong with it?" He asked finally. He suddenly realized that was the wrong thing to ask. Alice looked at him like he'd just sprouted another head and Carol looked at him like she was about to throw up on him. He felt a little like a deer caught in the middle of a busy road. "I'm sorry," he said, not really knowing what else to say. They both continued to look at him for a second longer.

Alice reached over and put her free hand on the arm that Carol had lying by her side now.

"Nothing's wrong with it," she said reassuringly. She cut her eyes at Daryl and he backed up a little. She was giving him a look that he wasn't entirely comfortable with. It was a warning look, that much he was sure of, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was warning him about.

"It just don't look…" he started. He looked at both of the women again. He realized this was a fight in which he was clearly outnumbered. He had to choose his words carefully or he was going to walk right back into the fat trap and he could smell it. "I was just askin' if all it's _parts_ an' stuff was in the right places," he finished, glancing at the screen again. Alice followed his eyes.

"Ultrasound machines are tricky things," she said. She moved the wand around and the image on the screen changed. "I can't read them. I've always figured that's what the hell we have techs for. I can tell you that this," she pointed, "is the head, and this is the spine. The blinky thing is the heart. That's about as good as I get. Your kid, though, looks as much like an alien on this thing as every other baby I've ever seen on one. Baby Beans has all the parts it needs, and as far as I can tell they're all just where they ought to be."

Daryl heard Carol let go of a breath that she'd obviously been holding. Alice cut the machine off and got a towel to wipe whatever she'd smeared on Carol off.

"The baby looks good," Alice said. "I'm going to run those tests, but I'm sure that everything's great. I'll let you know as soon as I know anything, but there's no need to worry."

Melodye came in the room just as Alice was speaking and offered Carol a granola bar.

"How'd it go?" She asked.

"All clear," Alice said. "We're going to start the countdown now. I'm pegging the baby at probably fourteen weeks, give or take." She turned her attention to Carol who was wrestling her pants back into place. She sat up and opened the granola bar that Melodye had given her. "You should start to feel it move before too long…fluttering around and stuff."

Carol nodded at her.

"I remember," she said. "It took me forever to figure out with Sophia that I was feeling her, though."

"Yeah, well, they say it's easier after the first kid," Alice said. "I wouldn't know, but I'll take your word for it. Papa bear here's gonna have to wait a little while longer."

Daryl looked at her, but he decided he'd reached his quota of statements for this visit. Alice was still giving him the warning look that made him uncomfortable. He didn't know if he was allowed to go now, but he was suddenly wishing for Glenn's conversation over that expression. He realized he'd messed up, and it was clear that she was daring him to do it again. The problem was that he seemed to mess up with things like that without even realizing it.

"We done?" Daryl asked.

"Yeah, you're done," Alice said.

Carol thanked her and Daryl stood to the side, waiting on Carol. He didn't know if he was supposed to do anything or say anything in particular so he just waited for more information. Carol thanked Alice and then walked over to him, catching his hand. He followed her out the door, assuming that Alice and Melodye were going to stay in the room.

"Why was you cryin'?" Daryl asked when they got out Cellblock D.

"I don't know," Carol said. "Just happy, I guess." Daryl chuckled a little. "What?" Carol asked.

"Cry when you're happy, cry when you're sad, cry when you're scared, cry when you're mad…that's a awful lotta cryin', Carol," he said. She playfully punched him in the arm.

"Do you have a problem with my crying?" She asked. Daryl smiled at her. She had that look on her face that she got whenever she was challenging him.

"Nah," he said. "I just didn't know that ya could cry for every damn feelin' in the book."

"You've got a lot to learn," Carol said. She pulled at his arm and rested her head against it as they walked.

"Ya can say that again," Daryl said. "I don't think I got enough brains ta understand ya sometimes."

"It's not just me, Daryl," Carol said. "It's women in general that you don't understand. I'm not some strange subspecies, you know."

Daryl wrapped his arm around her shoulder now and pulled her to him, feeling her loop her arm around his back.

"I know ya ain't," he said. "But'cha the first damn one I've ever tried ta understand."

"Hmm…" Carol hummed at him. "I better be the last one, too."

Daryl chuckled and squeezed her to him.

"I reckon ya gonna be," he said. "I don't think I could handle two of ya!" After a moment, Carol chuckled. "What'cha laughin' at?"

"What if the baby's a girl?" She asked.

Daryl just shook his head in response. That wasn't a possibility that he even wanted to think about right now. Carol laughed at him, but he didn't respond.

"Come on, Daddy," Carol said, "let's go see about dinner. We won't talk about your little princess if you don't want to."

Daryl scoffed at her and followed Carol to the dining room.


	43. Chapter 43

The best plan they could come up with to get everyone to town and still leave most of them to drive back whatever vehicles they could pack was to cram everyone into one of the trucks that Maggie, Glenn, and Sasha had driven back. Daryl was thankful that he was riding up front with Glenn, sure that the back of the truck was crowded and probably not comfortable at all. He felt like they were trying to smuggle their friends into some kind of top secret place when he'd shut the doors on the back of the truck sealing them all in.

"Ya reckon they can breathe back there?" Daryl asked Glenn. Glenn looked at him, a little panic on his face.

"I hadn't thought of that. You think we should stop and let them get some air? We don't want to open the thing up and find out they all died," Glenn said.

"How much further we gotta go?" Daryl asked.

"It's at least another thirty minutes," Glenn said. Daryl looked around them at the surrounding fields along the highway. If they were going to stop to find out if the group was at risk of suffocation, then this was as good a place as any. He didn't seen any Walkers in the direct vicinity except for one lone Walker across a field that was heading in the opposite direction.

"OK," Daryl said. "Pull over an' we gon' check on 'em. If they alright then I reckon they'll make it the rest a' the way."

Glenn agreed and brought the truck to the side of the road. Per Daryl's instruction, he left the engine running and waited while Daryl got out and went around. When Daryl opened the back of the truck people were beginning to shift around as though they planned to unload, but they froze.

"Where are we?" Maggie asked, being the first to break the confused silence.

"We're by the side a' the road," Daryl said.

"What's wrong?" Maggie asked.

"We thought y'all might be suffocatin' back here, so we thought we'd make sure ya was gon' live 'til we got to the town," Daryl responded. Now he realized that they'd been stupid for believing they were in the back dying.

"We're fine," Michonne said, answering for Maggie. "Let's just get there so we can get this over with."

Daryl nodded and closed the back of the truck. He went around, crawled in the cab and confirmed to Glenn that the fears had been unfounded.

"They looked at me like I was stupid," Daryl said.

"Better safe than sorry," Glenn said. "If they had been suffocating they would have appreciated our precaution."

Daryl chuckled and turned his attention back to staring out the window as Glenn pulled the truck back onto the road and drove them on toward the town they had found before.

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The town had seemed, to Daryl, to be far less Walker infested than he'd suspected. There were small bunches of them ambling about here and there in the streets, but nothing that would have concerned him normally. He didn't say anything to Glenn about it, though, and instead rode in silence until Glenn pulled up to the warehouse variety store they'd reported finding. Daryl looked out the window at the place. It was your average run of the mill store that most big towns have where a person could go to get give gallons of ketchup or six pounds of pork and beans whenever the need might arise.

Glenn stopped the truck and Daryl got out. They freed the prisoners from the back and everyone filed out of the truck, obviously prepared to fight the hoard of Walkers that wasn't present.

"I thought you said the place was crawling with Walkers?" Michonne asked as soon as her feet were firmly on the ground.

"It was," Maggie said, looking around, no less confused than the others at the lack of activity.

Ambling toward them were about three Walkers, and Michonne walked forward and put them down before anyone else had bothered to so much as shift their weight to a different foot.

"Where are they?" Daryl asked. Glenn looked confused and shrugged.

"I guess they moved on?" He said, not sounding sure at all of his own answer.

"Whatever," Daryl said. "Let's just get in there an' get what the hell we need."

"You said there were trucks," Alice said, stepping forward and grabbing Glenn's shoulder.

"There are, around back. There's a bunch of delivery trucks like this, and a couple of big rigs," he said.

Alice nodded.

"Can anyone else drive a semi? Anyone?" Alice asked. No one responded. "Awesome, I guess I'll be doing that little gig on my own."

"If we load down enough of these trucks we'll still be able to take a lot back, probably nearly as much of the stuff that won't go bad as the place has got," Sasha said. "They had a pharmacy section too, so that might have some things that are of interest to you."

Alice nodded again.

"Come on," Daryl growled. "We ain't gotta stay out here all damn day an' wait for all the Walkers ta come back!"

The group advanced toward the store. When they got to the doors that had once been electrically operated, they were open. It looked as though they'd been opened by force.

"Was the doors open when ya was here before?" Daryl asked.

Simultaneously Glenn, Maggie, and Sasha shook their heads.

"Fuck!" Daryl said. He lowered his voice. "Alright, I don't see any Walkers right now but this is a big damn place. We're goin' in but everybody stays with somebody. If ya run into trouble, call for help, we'll hear ya, but we might not be alone so be keep watch."

"And if you run into someone and you don't like them," Michonne said, "kill them. No judgment."

Everyone stepped slowly into the store, more than a little jumpy at the possibilities of finding Walkers or people hiding around any corner. The place was a total disaster zone from the start. It was clear that whenever the madness had broken out there had been a large crowd that had rushed to this particular location with exactly the thought that the group had now, the thought to get everything they could get their hands on to hole up for as long as possible. The full shopping carts and collapsed shelves, however, indicated that perhaps the plan had been less than successful.

Maggie and Alice broke off from the crowd. Maggie gagged when she passed some shopping carts that were heavy laden with long rotted substances that had grown some kind of super mold that appeared to just keep spreading across the floor. Alice heaved a little at the smell and the sight of the spreading mold and pushed Maggie further in the direction they were headed.

"I don't even fucking want to know what kind of genetically modified shit grew that disaster," Alice said.

"Do you think we should just start loading down shopping carts?" Maggie asked.

"Can't hurt," Alice said. "We'll clean out everything they've got. If it hasn't rotted yet, chances are it isn't going to go bad any time soon. These big ass carts could be used to haul bodies, we won't have to empty them for a while."

Maggie grabbed one of the long abandoned carts and picked through it, dropping on the floor anything that looked disgusting enough that they weren't going to take it back to the prison. Alice followed suit and started down one of the pharmacy aisled raking the entire contents of some of the shelves into her massive cart.

"Do we need all this?" Maggie asked, starting to fill her own cart on the other side.

"It's going at a good fucking price," Alice said.

"What about if other people passed through here? They might need some of it," Maggie said, obviously feeling guilty for going along with Alice's plan to truly clear the warehouse out of anything even remotely useful.

"To hell with 'em," Alice said. "Would you rather our people live or people we don't even know exist? Besides, if anybody else comes knocking at those gates and we let them in, they're going to drain the hell out of our supplies."

"Good point," Maggie said, giving in and following suit by knocking everything she could into the cart. "We'll have to find Glenn or somebody soon to go out back and clear the Walkers out of the fenced in area so we can start moving trucks."

"Send the samurai," Alice said. "She'll have the place cleared before we can push the carts out the door."

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Daryl and Glenn had already been lucky enough to run into two Walkers lurking among the rubble of things in the store, but two Walkers were hardly a threat, so they managed to take them down without much concern.

"I hope ta hell ain't nothin' happenin' back at the prison," Daryl said. "We didn't need this many damn people when we ain't even seen a handful a' Walkers."

"I'm telling you," Glenn said, "the place was swarmed a few days ago. I don't know what happened to them."

Daryl looked around. The store was in shambles. There was enough evidence of old bloodshed around that it was hard to tell if whatever had happened here took place before or after the doors were forced open. Trying to figure it out would be like inspecting a crime scene, and there wasn't time for that. Clearly the main concern at the moment was only with the things they needed to get and the Walkers that remained from the herd that was no longer accounted for.

"I reckon they left when whoever opened them doors was here," Daryl said. "Probably some unlucky bastards."

They hadn't seen any obvious remains of the unlucky individuals who had encountered the trapped Walkers, but that didn't mean they weren't there, it simply meant that there was no need to go inspecting every fallen mound of rotting flesh to figure out what had happened. Whether the unknown being died a person or a Walker, whether they were killed by Walkers or people, all these things mattered very little. The fallen bodies around the store didn't belong to any of their people and therefore they were of little concern.

"I just hope we don't see the herd again," Glenn said. He looked worried, and he had every right to be. They didn't know much about the migratory patterns of Walkers or even if they followed any predictable routes. It seemed like herds of them could appear out of nowhere. They didn't always give plenty of warning.

"You an' me both," Daryl said. "Ya gon' help me find the damn rings or what?" He asked after a minute. Glenn turned to him and smiled.

"So you're gonna do it?" Glenn asked.

"Shut up an' help me find the damn things, an' don't'cha go runnin' ya mouth ta anyone. Ya can't keep a damn secret ta save ya life," Daryl said.

"I promise," Glenn said, his grin broadening. "I won't say anything."

Glenn took the lead then and led Daryl to a jewelry counter. Daryl looked around. His group members all seemed to be occupied or either were hidden from view entirely. Everyone was working steadily filling carts and making their way out to the parking lot with them to load trucks that would later be brought around.

Daryl pulled open one of the cabinets in the jewelry stand and grabbed a box full of diamond rings. He opened his backpack and shoved the entire box in there.

"We need bands, too," Glenn said, leaning over the glass top of the display. Daryl grabbed a box of those and shoved them in the bag as well. "We're taking all of them?" Glenn asked.

"Ain't got time ta figure this shit out right now. We gotta get 'round back and get some damn trucks out there. The women is puttin' their shoppin' skills ta good use. I done seen at least eight carts go out that door loaded down," Daryl said.

Glenn shrugged and waited for Daryl to hop back over the display.

"It would be better to go to the back through the fences," Glenn said. "At least then we know how many Walkers we're dealing with. If we try to go through the back we're in uncharted territory."

"Fine," Daryl said. "Grab Sasha an' Michonne an' we'll clear 'em out. Alice is gonna have ta get her own damn truck."

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Michonne and Sasha followed Glenn and Daryl around to the back of the store. Just as they'd reported, the gates were closed, but not locked. They'd closed them after their last departure reasoning that they would contain as much of the Walker threat as possible so as to not be overrun during their escape. Now that the other Walkers had apparently moved on, though, it seemed foolish to think that they'd caged the fifty or so Walkers in the back to guarantee that they had to deal with them.

"Do you think we should get the others," Sasha asked, regarding the group as they stood a few feet from chain link fence against which the fifty or so Walkers were beginning to bunch.

"If we were dumb enough ta open the gates we might need 'em," Daryl said, "but we ain't gon' do that."

Sasha looked at him for a moment as though she were confused, but Michonne immediately caught on to what he was saying. She drew her katana and walked toward the fence. Michonne's katana sliced through the air above the chain link barrier and she brought several of the Walkers down with one swipe. She turned, looking slightly over her shoulder.

"Give me about ten minutes," she said, "unless of course you were thinking about helping."

Daryl stepped forward, drawing his knife and beginning to bring down the growling would-be predators who weren't building numbers fast enough to bring down the partition that kept them from the food that they so obviously desired.

Glenn and Sasha watched the two of them for a moment and then finally made their way to the fence to begin wiping out the others.

"I feel stupid now," Glenn said. "We barely made it out of her without anybody getting torn up the other day and now it looks like we were afraid of just a couple of Walkers."

Daryl chuckled a little at him and continued stabbing.

"It's true," Sasha said. "The whole place was teeming with them."

"Don't doubt it," Daryl said. "When we was at the farm we got hit by a herd ya wouldn't believe. That's why the hell we had ta leave the damn place. They're slow movin' fuckers…right up until they ain't. Looks like what the hell was left here just moved the fuck on an' left these sorry ones ta fend for themselves."

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Alice stepped away from Maggie for a few moments, collecting more things to take back. What she wanted for herself and for Melodye, she loaded into the backpack that she was carrying, much like everyone else in the group was doing. The rest, the things that were important to everyone in the group, went into carts and got pushed out to the parking lot where a few of the group members were loading vans. She knew she'd have to step out soon to select which of the trucks she wanted to use to haul back the mother lode of the trip, but she had a few more personal items that she wanted to collect, and she wanted to collect them without drawing Maggie's attention. She didn't want to have to explain every single that she did.

After Alice found the final items that she was looking for and stuffed them in her bag, she went back to loading down a cart with some more of the things they were intending to take back to the prison. She reasoned, with as much as they already had, that they probably had a good amount of supplies for the winter, but there was still a decent amount that they hadn't even begun to load up. They may even have enough for another run back to the warehouse of sorts.

"You know," Alice called, catching the attention of Maggie who was a few rows over, "Mel's parents used to have a membership to a place like this and every time we went in there I always wondered who the hell really shopped there on a regular basis. Like when the hell did you really need to buy five pounds of rice or get six gallons of pork and beans? I never thought I'd be raiding one of these joints and wishing they had even more shit to grab."

"I know what you mean," Maggie said. "I would have never thought I'd be so happy to see thirty cases of SPAM in my life."

"Mmmm…SPAM," Alice said. She stepped over some fallen boxes near the back wall of the store and stumbled a little, slamming into the door of what appeared to be a broom closet.

"Are you OK?" Maggie called, having moved to the aisle right beside where Alice was walking around.

"Fine," Alice called. "Just a fuckin' klutz." She stood up and kicked at one of the discarded boxes that had caught her foot. She would have kept walking, but she heard something thump inside of the closet. She waited a minute, but the noise didn't repeat itself. "Maggie, can I get back up here a sec?"

Maggie came around the corner a moment later, her machete already in her hand.

"What's up?" Maggie asked, her eyes darting around for any possible threat. Alice held her hand out to Maggie.

"Could be nothing, but I heard something thump in there. Probably just a trapped Walker but I don't want to open this damn door and a swarm spill out with just me and a knife here," Alice said.

Maggie nodded at her and backed up a little to give her space. Alice circled around and pulled open the door, darting backwards as she did. The door swung open, but no snarling Walker came wandering out as she'd thought might happen.

Both of the women stepped forward and peered into the poorly lit closet. Inside they couldn't see a thing at first. Then they realized that there was something in there, but it wasn't a Walker.

"What the hell?" Alice asked. "What the fuck are you doing in a broom closet?"

"Don't hurt us!" The woman who was kneeling down between a bucket and box of cleaning supplies said.

Alice and Maggie looked at each other for a second before turning back to regard the woman. She was on her knees, her hands raised protectively.

"Come out of there," Alice said, backing up to stand beside Maggie. The woman slowly got to her feet. She was scratched up, her clothes oversized and ripped, and she wasn't wearing shoes. Her curly black hair was tangled around her face. She stood where she'd been kneeling, her hands still raised, and showing that she was clearly unarmed.

"Are you alone or are there more people in the closet of wonders?" Alice asked, a confused look on her face.

"Are you with them?" The woman asked.

"With who?" Maggie asked.

"With that group? Are you with them? Please, we don't want any trouble," the woman declared.

"You're hiding in a broom closet and you think we're trouble?" Alice asked. "Are you alone in there? Who's with you?"

"Please, just let us go. She's an old woman. She won't be any good to anyone, just let us go," the woman protested.

Alice looked at Maggie again, her eyebrow raised in question.

"We're not going to hurt you," Maggie said. "We're with a group, but we're just here for supplies. Who are you and why are you in the broom closet?"

The woman clearly looked frightened. She stepped forward slowly and Alice and Maggie backed up in unison to allow her more space. She stepped to the doorway of the closet and peered out, glancing briefly around either side of the door frame.

"Do you think she's nuts?" Alice asked Maggie, apparently not trying to keep the dark headed woman from hearing her question.

"Rick! Glenn! We found someone!" Maggie called suddenly.

The dark headed woman retreated into the closet in a sort of semi panic.

"Closet case," Alice said, "you can come back out. They're our friends. We're not going to hurt you unless you do something stupid and try to hurt us."

Rick and Karen came jogging over from the other side of the store. The others were outside loading trucks.

"What's up?" Rick asked, his hand on his knife as he walked over.

The woman reappeared at the closet door looking no less terrified than she had before.

"Please," she said, nearly in tears, "please just let us go. What did you do with them?"

"Now calm down," Rick said, holding his hand out reassuringly toward the woman. "We're not going to hurt you. What did we do with who?"

"My friends, what did you do with them? Did you kill them?" The woman dissolved then into tears. "Oh God! You killed them! Please, don't kill us!"

"We're not going to kill anyone," Rick said. "You're the first person we've seen here. I don't know where your friends are, but they're not here."

"They have to be!" She protested. "They wouldn't just leave us here!"

Rick sighed and turned to Alice.

"Daryl is outside loading up trucks and you need to go and get a semi. Will you go and do that and send him in here? Tell him to shoulder his crossbow. We have a situation on our hands, but I don't think it's one we need to approach locked and loaded," Rick said.

Alice nodded and disappeared toward the front of the store to go in search of Daryl.

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Daryl chewed his thumb and leaned against the cool concrete of the wall looking over the mess they had to sort out.

The black haired lady that they'd dug out of the dirty broom closet was named Cynthia. From her appearance she had probably been a very well put together woman at one time, but the harsh reality of their current world had left her looking a little more like she had spent the last few years living in a cardboard box. Daryl figured her to be somewhere near forty, but that was just a guess.

They'd also plucked an old woman out of the same broom closet who appeared to be one of the oldest living relics left on the planet. Daryl couldn't imagine how she'd made it this far, especially not after hearing the story that Cynthia told about how they'd come to be shut in a broom closet. Apparently they were part of a larger group that had been living a more or less nomadic lifestyle. They'd been camping near the area when a group that Cynthia described as "militant" passed through and attacked their camp in the middle of the night. Some people had been killed, but others had escaped, making their way to the town.

Now there was Cynthia, the old woman that Daryl learned was called Miss Eula, and three others that they'd found in the back storage area of the store. One was an older lady named Milagros, the others were a young man named Jacob, and a man that Daryl suspected to be somewhere around his age or Rick's age that was named Brian. The fate of the rest of their group was unknown, the five of them having sought shelter in the store, presumably alone.

"What about the Walkers?" Daryl asked while they were all contemplating what to do with the newly found people.

"The what?" Cynthia asked.

"Walkers," Daryl said. "The damn walking dead people. What the fuck did y'all do about them?"

"The zombies?" Jacob asked. "We killed them, what the hell else were we going to do with them? Keep 'em as pets?"

"Stranger things have happened," Daryl said, remembering Michonne's mention of the Walkers that she'd kept as camouflage for the time that she'd been travelling before encountering the fine folks of Woodbury.

"This place was overrun a few days ago," Glenn said. "We saw a few dead Walkers outside, and there are more than a few around the store, but that doesn't answer for probably a hundred of the ones that were here. How did you get past them?"

The members of the new group regarded each other. Brian finally shrugged.

"We don't know what you're talking about," he said. "When we came through here from the woods just on the other side of that big hardware store the town was abandoned. We came in here because it was practically empty and it was the easiest place to hide. There weren't more than ten zombies around here when we got here. There were some out back, but we just didn't go in their general area."

"An' the doors up front?" Daryl asked. "Were y'all the ones ta bust 'em open?"

Brian shook his head again.

"We didn't do anything once we got here. The doors were open. The place was pretty much abandoned. We've probably been here a day," he said.

"Maybe a day and a half," Cynthia added. "It's hard to keep track of time when you're trying not to get noticed by murderers."

Daryl stood there a moment longer.

"We gotta get back ta the fuckin' prison," he said. "We don't know where this other fuckin' group has gone, but I don't like the idea of 'em gettin' there 'fore we do."

Rick nodded his agreement.

"We don't know about the Walkers either," Alice said. "What if that herd moves in our direction? Is the prison safe enough for that?"

"Don't know," Rick said. "I think it'll hold out a pretty decent herd, but I don't know how many was in the one that left out of here, and we don't know what motivated them to move. If they joined up they could be a force to be reckoned with."

"Can a herd overtake trucks?" Alice asked. "I mean could we get stuck on the way back?"

"If we see them on the way back then nobody stops," Rick said. "If we keep moving they won't overtake the trucks. Even bunched together they're too slow. We can outdrive them, but if we stop we might not be so lucky."

Almost simultaneously everyone in the group started for the door, leaving the new found people standing in the back of the store as though baffled by the exchange that had taken place.

"Wait!" Cynthia called after them. "What about us?"

"What about'cha?" Daryl called over his shoulder. "We ain't got time ta sit around here playin' footsy with ya. If ya comin' with us then ya best damn get ya asses outside an' get in a truck."

Daryl began to jog ahead of the group. The more he thought about it, the more he became concerned that something would happen at the prison and they wouldn't be there to protect everyone. He hoped that when they got there they would find out that it had been an uneventful day for everyone, but he worried about the worst. He cursed himself, quietly, for having agreed to take everyone out at once.

Once outside the store they made quick work of loading what was left in carts into the back of trucks. Everyone scrambled about closing down the hatches of vehicles. The five new people came out after them, Cynthia and Brian helping the old woman.

Rick cursed a little at the thought of taking on the liability of a woman who appeared to be nearing a hundred and was possibly senile, but somehow she had survived. He could see that it was likely the protective nature of her other group members that were responsible for her longevity, though. Rick helped her into the car that they'd brought from the prison and Cynthia and Brian packed in the back. Rick didn't take the time to question the fact that he was alone in the car with strangers, taking on good faith that they must be decent people. They were, after all, unarmed and disheveled. Their story was likely true and they'd ended up in the store out of being desperate to find refuge.

Daryl hauled himself into one of the trucks and brought the engine roaring to life. He had no idea where the five new people were gone to, but as the others brought their trucks to life, he realized he didn't care. He started forward and fell in line behind Glenn who was serving as the leader of the pack. If they drove quickly enough they'd make it back well before nightfall and Daryl was glad of that. At least the light would be in their favor for keeping an eye out for a large herd or even a passing group on the road.

The haul they were bringing back was a step in the right direction toward having an easy winter, but Daryl could only hope that it hadn't come at any cost to them. He roared his engine, speeding up and hoping to coax Glenn to do the same. Glenn responded, increasing his speed to suit the one that Daryl was trying to set. Daryl kept his eyes on the road ahead, glancing from time to time at the sides of the roads and the fields around him. He only hoped that no one behind him had any problems because he was determined to make the best time possible, and that didn't include time for looking back.


	44. Chapter 44

Tyreese kept everyone inside as he promised. Carl had requested to be on watch and Tyreese kept stepping out every now and again to make sure that the boy was alright, but other than that he stayed inside with the others.

The prison was quiet. Hank and Hershel sat at the small table they'd moved into the common area and played cards while Melodye, Carol, and Beth entertained Judith. Beth had agreed to sit with them, though the girl was quiet and didn't seem to want to engage in any of the idle chitchat they shared surrounding what they thought the others might bring back and what else they might need to survive the winter. The prospect of supplies from a store that carried everything from food to bedding left Carol and Melodye doing a good deal of planning.

Tyreese wandered around feeling a little useless in his position. Essentially he was overseeing recess in his opinion. Carl was fine sitting in the watchtower. Other than the threat of an encroaching rainstorm as evidenced by some dark clouds on the horizon, there was really nothing concerning about the day. Everyone inside was entertained, except for Tyreese.

His thoughts kept drifting to the group that was on the run. A herd of Walkers, even for the skilled individuals that were on the run, could easily get out of hand. He knew that at least some of his group would return, no matter the size of the hoard, but he worried about them nonetheless. His sister was out there, as was Michonne, and though both women were formidable opponents for Walkers, it didn't mean that he still didn't worry for their safety. No one was invincible, as much as they might like to believe from time to time that some of them were.

As the day wore on, Tyreese entertained himself by doing inventory of the weapons. It had been done about a thousand times over, but really he was redoing it more to give his hands and his mind something to focus on. He could have been outside working on any number of small projects that needed to be done to rebuild and fortify the prison after the Governor's last attack had left so much of it in shambles, but he knew if he wandered outside the others were likely to follow and he'd explicitly promised Rick and Daryl that for safety sake they would remain inside the prison unless there was some visible threat.

Tyreese was closing up one of the bags of ammunition and storing it near the guns it pertained to when Carl came through the prison at almost a job.

"Tyreese, I think you might need to come and see this," he said.

Tyreese looked up from what he was doing. The boy looked a little panicked, but nothing that screamed immediate response. He zipped the bag shut, leaving it on the table he was sitting at, and followed Carl outside, assuring the women that it was probably nothing when they saw the two of them pass by.

"What is it?" Tyreese asked, entering the yard with the boy.

"Over there," Carl said, pointing in the direction of one of the side fences. "Out there near the tree line. It looks like a herd."

Tyreese strained his eyes, but he couldn't see much with the foggy surroundings.

"I don't see anything but trees," Tyreese said. Carl shook his head, obviously slightly frustrated. He offered Tyreese the binoculars that he wore around his neck.

"It looks like trees, but it's not. They're just clearing the tree line. It looks like they're coming this way," Carl explained.

Tyreese lifted the binoculars the boy offered him and studied the tree line. Sure enough he could see the figures of Walkers ambling out around the trees. It was difficult to tell with the distance and the obscurity exactly how many there were, but it looked like a decent sized herd.

"They might turn," Tyreese said, more to himself than to Carl.

"Should we get the others?" Carl asked.

Tyreese didn't like the idea of a herd coming down upon them. Only some of the fences around the prison were really in the shape they needed to be in to withstand a herd of any respectable size. Many of the others had been weakened in the past attacks. They'd done their best to get them standing and assure they were strong enough to keep out the normal numbers that pressed against them, but even those numbers were controlled by the passing patrols that walked the fence lines and made sure that they didn't back up too thick.

Tyreese couldn't guarantee that the herd wouldn't turn, but he couldn't guarantee that it would. There was no one else in a leadership position to speak to about this, so the call was his to make.

"Let's talk to them," Tyreese said. He handed the boy back the binoculars and the two of them started inside where the others were still busy with their idle pastimes.

"We've got a herd headed in our direction," Tyreese announced. "Can't tell how big it is, but if it's headed our way we should be prepared."

He watched as everyone cast glances back and forth.

"How far away?" Hershel asked.

"Far enough that they're not on us now, but if they don't turn we won't have too long," Tyreese said. "They're at the tree line now. That's one reason I can't judge the total size of the herd."

"What do we do?" Melodye asked. "Will the fences keep them out?"

Tyreese shook his head.

"Not if it's a good sized herd they won't. They're approaching from the west side and that line of fences won't keep out many more than build up overnight," he responded.

He didn't want to admit that he didn't like the idea at all of trying to fight any number of Walkers with the "soldiers" that he had. Hand to hand combat with a group of Walkers wasn't exactly what this bunch was built for.

"Can we pick them off?" Carol asked. "If we shoot from the tower, do you think we could get them down before they reach the fences?"

"I don't know," Tyreese admitted. "Without knowing how large the herd is that's hard to tell. I'll never hit anything from that tower, though, and Hershel can't climb it."

"I can shoot distances," Carol said. "Melodye, can you shoot long range?"

Melodye shrugged.

"Well, yeah, if I had a gun," she said.

"We've got guns, it's hands we don't have," Carol said. "What if Melodye and I were to go up the tower? We can pick off what we can from up there. You guys can stay down on ground level and shoot from the fence line when they get closer."

"We can always come down if they start bunching up," Melodye said.

"I'm pretty good with a rifle," Carl offered. "I can go up with them to take the Walkers out before they get to us."

Tyreese wasn't sure there was any merit to the plan at all, but the fact of the matter was that a herd was headed for them and a plan was a plan.

"Fine, everyone get armed. Hershel, if you want, you can stay inside with Judith, but we need everyone else. Beth, that means you too," Tyreese said.

"We can leave Judith in her playpen," Hershel said. "If a herd is moving this way then I need to be shooting what I can. Every Walker down is one not trying to knock down the fences."

Tyreese worked getting the group organized. Carol and Melodye went with Carl to go up in the tower and get a head start on picking off whatever was coming. Tyreese stayed behind and helped the others get weapons. He didn't know how long they could hold them off, but they had to try and reduce the numbers somehow.

He was feeling like it might be pretty manageable as they headed out the prison door to take their places at the fence, the cracking of gunfire already ringing out from the tower, but he wasn't expecting to see the mass that was headed in their direction.

Beth gasped as they turned to face the oncoming herd, and Tyreese couldn't find any words of comfort for his comrades on the ground.

"Everybody get ready," he commanded. "That's not one herd. Hold 'em back as long as you can."

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"Fucking Georgia storms," Daryl growled to himself, reaching down to flick the headlights of the truck on. The windshield wipers had been going on almost full blast for a while, but visibility was getting worse. The thing about the summer storms like these was that they had a way of being unpredictable. It would rain one minute like you needed to build some kind of damn boat and the next the clouds would almost disappear and there'd be birds chirping and shit. Then there were the other times when it rained like there was no tomorrow or the days where it threatened to rain all day but not a drop fell.

Daryl hoped this storm passed somewhat quickly. They were getting closer to the prison and if they wanted to do this unloading thing in any kind of orderly and quick fashion it would be useful to not have to do it in the flooding rain. Daryl lit a cigarette and steered his truck down the road, following the bouncing taillights of Glenn's truck in front of him. He glanced once or twice in his mirrors to see that the caravan was still following him, though the rain made it difficult to tell how many trucks were behind him. He hoped that if anyone had run out of gas or experienced any other such trouble that someone had stopped to pick them up. This was the first time they'd organized a movement of this magnitude, but it would be well worth it to get a lot of supplies back.

Daryl had begun to think that there was going to be nothing to worry about at the prison. They'd seen no indication of the militant group that the five new people had talked about briefly, though he didn't know what they expected to see if the group wasn't stupid enough to cross the road in front of a line of delivery trucks. Of course, with the current darkness around them thanks to Mother Nature, they weren't likely to see the assholes before they ran over them right now.

Daryl was daydreaming a little, the prison barely coming into sight when he noticed that Glenn's taillights were getting closer to him than they were before. He slammed his foot down on the brake to slow his truck, not sure what was slowing the Korean down. He would have honked his horn, but he knew better than that. They'd seen a few small bunches of Walkers on their drive, out for a stroll or whatever the hell it was that Walkers on the move were doing, and the last thing they wanted to do was draw more attention than the engines of the trucks would draw on their own.

Suddenly, over the pattering pop of raindrops on the roof of the truck, Daryl could hear the cracking sound of what seemed to be gunfire. He snapped his head quickly in the direction of the prison, rolling forward slowly behind Glenn. As they cleared the spot in the road where they could clearly see the structure, Daryl feared they would see that their group mates were under attack from this possibly dangerous group. He wasn't prepared, however for what he actually saw. He pulled the truck to a stop right behind Glenn's truck and took a moment to take in the scene that lie in front of him.

The fence on the west side of the prison, the side from which they were approaching, was buckling, nearly folded down in some places. A herd of Walkers, was pressing against it, and where it had begun to buckle it looked as if they were crawling over one another, slowly gaining access to the inside, trickling over one at a time. Daryl strained his eyes against the grey of the rain, but he couldn't make out much more than the occasional moving figure inside the fence that moved with more speed than the Walkers.

Daryl flung open the door to the truck, and taking his crossbow, jumped out onto the road. He rushed forward. Glenn had also freed himself of the confines of his own truck and was running in front of Daryl toward the gates. Daryl was a few steps behind him and knew exactly what had happened when Glenn grabbed the gate and shook it. It was locked, secured. That was the deal that they'd made with Tyreese. The gates were to be locked until their return. It looked now, however, that no one inside the prison would be concerned in the slightest with opening the gates. The herd that was closing in on them would be of far more interest.

Daryl turned his attention then away from the gates and started around the fences, rushing in the direction of the attacking herd. He nearly slipped in the mud, but regained his footing. He wasn't sure if anyone was behind him or if they'd all even become aware of what was happening yet, but he felt like he had to try and do something. He knew that the group inside the prison wasn't large enough to fight off the herd, and though he wasn't going to be able to put much of a dent in it himself, he hoped that soon he'd hear evidence that his comrades were behind him.

"Hey!" Daryl called out, rushing toward the herd. "Hey, you assholes! Hey, over here!" He stopped where he was and cursed the fact that he hadn't brought a gun with him. He didn't want to get too close to the herd until he knew he wasn't alone, and he was armed only with his knife and four arrows. It wasn't going to do much good to take out only four Walkers before he had to approach the slobbering bastards.

Daryl glanced briefly in the direction of the prison yard. He couldn't see anyone specifically. He could hear the noises of Walkers and he could occasionally hear some kind of sound coming from someone in there, but any specifics would be hard to identify. As he saw another Walker just topping the fence and spilling into the yard, he realized that whether he was alone or not, he had to do what he could to keep them from overflowing into the space. Hershel wouldn't last long in hand to hand combat, Hank would likely die from exhaustion before he killed too many, Beth was almost useless in any kind of attack, and he couldn't imagine Carl, Melodye, Carol, and Tyreese being able to hold off too many for too long.

Daryl ran forward, slinging his crossbow onto his back and foregoing that route for the moment. He'd drawn the attention of some of the herd, though a good bit of it seemed far more interested in climbing over the other Walkers toward the larger portion of food found inside the fences. Daryl slammed his knife into the head of the closest Walker to him. He tried to blindly fight them, not paying attention to anything more than his necessity to take out as many as possible.

He slowly became aware of his comrades joining him. They'd all been prepared to fight Walkers in close combat today, but they hadn't thought that it would be in the rain and mud, and they hadn't thought that it would be right outside their back door instead of in some distant town.

The fight seemed to rage on for hours. Daryl could feel his shoulders and arms crying out from the exhaustion of stabbing one Walker after another. Slowly they were making progress, though, as Walkers tripped over each other, toppling forward in their attempt to get to something that would serve as dinner. Daryl was aware that a handful still attempted to get over the fence to the prison, but with lessening weight the people inside seemed to be pushing the fence up a little and the incline of the wire, though not yet vertical, was deterring the oncoming Walkers to some degree.

When the herd had finally dissolved down to the last dozen or so Walkers, Daryl turned away from it. Everyone that had gone out to fight in town was now soaking wet, many of them covered in mud from a few spills in the slippery ground, and caked thick with Walker blood. Daryl was sure that the only reason that there was any clean skin on his body at all was owing from the gully washer of a rainstorm that was still raging on. He panted a little from the exertion of the fight that they'd finished and walked close to the fence line.

The fence on this side was badly damaged and it would have to be reinforced if they hoped for it to even withstand a handful of eager Walkers. Something temporary would have to be done for the night and then the next day they could figure out what else to do.

"Let us in!" Daryl called through the fence. He swiped the water out of his face and could make out Tyreese walking toward him. "Open the gates, let us in!" Daryl called again.

He noticed Tyreese turn and head straight toward the gates and he quickened his own steps in that direction. He turned back slightly and noticed that his friends were behind him, all looking visibly more exhausted than they'd been when they'd left the town. He reached the gates first, but just as he got there Rick was stepping up behind him.

"I don't suppose we have to ask if anything happened while we were gone," Rick said, panting. Tyreese was struggling with the lock and Daryl stepped to the side to kill a few lingering Walkers that were headed toward them.

"They just come up on us pretty suddenly," Tyreese said through the fence, finally getting the lock open. "We put a good bit of 'em down, but they kept coming. It looked like more than one herd."

"Sometimes a couple of them will merge like that," Rick said. "It isn't the first time we've seen it, and I'm afraid it won't be the last."

"Them fences just buckle?" Daryl asked, pushing his way into the gates as soon as Tyreese pulled them open.

"They held for a while," Tyreese said, "but when the poles started to bend there wasn't really much we could do. We tried to push back as much as we could, but we didn't exactly have that much muscle power."

Daryl lingered only a second before he saw Carol making her way across the yard toward him, almost jogging. He picked up his speed, jogging toward her.

"Don't run ya crazy woman," he yelled. She didn't listen to him, though, she was too hardheaded to listen half the time. When he reached her, she wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her into his chest. She was as soaked as he was and covered in Walker muck, her skin slippery against his arms and hands. "Ya ain't bit or scratched, is ya?" He asked, worried.

"No, you?" She asked. Daryl squeezed her a little.

"I'm just fine," he said. He pushed her away from him enough to find her lips with his own. They stood for a moment, in the rain, catching their breaths. There was no need now to run from the water. It wasn't likely that anyone out there was going to get any wetter than they already were. Daryl pulled her to him with one arm and turned slightly to see everyone else pouring in through the gates.

"Hank," Carol said, "they got him. Some of them that got over the fence. There wasn't anything that we could do."

Daryl noticed she was trembling a little in his embrace and he wasn't sure if it was owing to fright, exhaustion, or the coolness of the rain.

"At least ya ain't hurt," Daryl said, unsure of what his response should be about the old man. He saw Alice come running past him. Melodye met her partway and leapt onto her, both of them crashing into the mud. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but chuckle when he saw them go down. "And that's why the hell ya shouldn't run out here," Daryl said.

As people flooded into the gates and Tyreese shut them behind the group, quickly taking Sasha into an embrace, Daryl realized that the five new people weren't to be found.

"Where the hell is them other people?" Daryl called out to Rick who was near him. Rick shrugged, looking around.

"They came with us, but I'm guessing they didn't join us in the fight. They were unarmed. I left mine in the car," Rick said.

"Might as well go get the fuckers," Daryl said, still absentmindedly pinning Carol to his side. "We should bring the fuckin' trucks in at least, but we ain't even gonna try ta unload 'em tonight."

Alice walked up beside them then, covered nearly from head to toe in mud that the rain was slowly starting wash off.

"Are the new people coming in?" She asked.

"I reckon we gotta move 'em in," Daryl said. "Can't leave 'em in the car all night."

"What new people?" Carol asked. It was only then that Daryl seemed to realize that he had her trapped and released the hold he had on her a bit.

"We run into some new people in the town," Daryl said. "It's a long ass story, but we brought 'em back here with us. They're out in them trucks somewhere."

"What about the fence?" Rick asked. "We can't leave it like that."

The rest of the group was slowly starting to bunch around them now. People were taking inventory of their loved ones, no one even noticing any longer the rain that poured down around them.

"Gotta do somethin' 'bout it," Daryl answered in regard to Rick's inquiry about the fence.

"We can rig something up for the night," Glenn said. "It should hold against a regular number of Walkers if we fortify the main poles a little and try to get it stabilized again. Tomorrow we can come up with something a little more permanent."

"If we can move all those bodies," Alice started, "then tomorrow we can pull the empty trucks up against them. If we park them one on top of the other it'll make a little fuckin' chain or some shit like that. Should slow the fuckers down a bit."

"Good idea," Daryl said, "but that ain't gon' be a permanent fix. We gonna have ta build up the strength of the fences if we don't aim ta have this shit happen again. We can't never tell when a herd's gonna get the idea to push through here."

"I'll take night duty tonight," Michonne said. "If I walk the fence then I can keep it down to a minimum. It'll be fine until we can come up with something solid."

"Then let's get the trucks inside the yard," Rick said. "We'll get the new people to the holding cell, rig up some kind of security for that fence tonight so Michonne doesn't have Walkers dropping in all night, and then tomorrow we'll go from there."

"We'll get something together to eat," Carol said. "We can use some of the power tonight to use one of the stoves instead of cooking over fire. I don't think the rain is going to leave us much of a choice. By the time y'all get everything else done, we'll be able to feed everyone."

Daryl nodded, looking at Rick. The man seemed to have no protests. He pushed Carol away a bit and leaned to kiss her on the forehead. He knew that he was supposed to be bothered by the fact that they'd lost Hank in the battle of the day, but the truth was that he'd had little concern for anyone but Carol and the loss didn't even register much with him. He was almost happy, and he was attempting to do his best to hide it, feeling guilty and a little callous for his lack of concern.

"Y'all get inside and get dried off. Get some food goin'. We'll get the trucks an' get the fence back up. Alice, can ya move the new people to the cell?" Daryl asked.

"No problem," Alice said. "I don't think they're going to put up much of a fight, especially not after seeing that epic fucking ass kicking we just did." She grinned.

"Fine," Rick said, "let's get a move on before it's too late and it gets any harder to see out here."

Carol pulled away from Daryl then and he watched as she headed back toward the prison with Melodye beside her. She glanced over her shoulder once and he smiled because he knew she wouldn't expect him to still be looking. He turned, then, and started toward the gates to help get everything else underway.

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They'd pulled the trucks into the yard, nearly filling it entirely with the large vehicles, leaving only the semi parked outside. Then they'd staked up the fence as best they could to hold for the night. The newcomers had easily succumbed to their imprisonment in the holding cell, especially upon learning that they'd be allowed to stay together, since separation was what they seemed to fear the most. It seemed that the promise of some well-worn prison mattresses and the poor man's meal that the group had to offer only sweetened the deal for their weary foundlings.

After everyone had eaten, there was some brief discussion in the dining hall about the new people and the work that was to be done the next day. The group had also taken a moment of silence for Hank, the unfortunate fallen of the Walker attack, though his status as primarily a loner seemed to make it so that their silence was more out of respect than out of any real, heavy grief on the part of anyone present.

They'd taken turns, then, cleaning up after dinner and showering, everyone retiring to their cells out of exhaustion almost immediately. Michonne and Tyreese had been the only two not to retire since they'd agreed to take the night watch and guard the poorly repaired west fence against any night Walkers that my like to try to gain access to the prison yard.

Daryl had been more than happy, after showering with Carol, to return to their cell. Upon their arrival back to the cell, clean from the shower, they'd immediately lost the pajamas they wore for the short walk and fallen into bed for a session of slow and lazy love making, neither having the energy for anything more strenuous. Even the gentle coupling had left them both physically drained of whatever enthusiasm they had left for the day.

"Why do ya smell so fuckin' good?" Daryl asked, kissing Carol's temple as she lie beside him in bed.

"It's soap, Daryl," Carol said with a snicker. She rolled then, facing him, and burrowed into him. He smiled and kissed her forehead then.

"Ya tryin' ta get up under me or what?" He asked with a chuckle.

"What?" She asked, her voice sounding a little sleepy.

"I said ya tryin' ta get up under me or what? Ya all rootin' up on me," Daryl said.

"I was under you before," Carol said, yawning. Daryl smiled.

"Yeah, ya was," he said. "Ya tryin' ta go again? Ya could just say somethin' if ya wanted some more."

"I'm sorry," Carol said, scooching away from him a little. Daryl reached his arm around her and pulled her back against him.

"I was teasin' ya, don't'cha go runnin' the hell away from me now," he said.

"I didn't want to crowd you," Carol said. Daryl lazily rubbed her back with his hand. He felt her nuzzle his chest with her face again, relaxing back into her position.

"Ya ain't crowdin' me," Daryl said. "I think it's kinda funny when ya get ta burrowin' in the bed."

"I don't burrow!" Carol protested, pulling away a little and sitting up on her elbow so that she had a clear line of vision with his face. Despite the darkness of the cell, he could still make out the fact that her eyebrows were knit together. He smiled.

"Ya _do_ burrow," Daryl said. "But'cha only burrow after sex, so I don't mind it so much." His hand was still resting on her back, his arm draped over her, and he felt her muscles tense.

"I do _not_ burrow!" She protested again. Daryl tried to bite back the urge to laugh.

"What the hell ya wanna call it, then?" He asked.

"It's called snuggling, Daryl Dixon!" Carol said. She sat up, breaking their contact then. "And if you don't want me to snuggle with you, that's fine. I don't have to." She pulled herself up slowly and sat beside him. He looped his arm around her leg, pulling it to him and kissed her thigh. "Mmm mmm," she scolded. "You don't want me touching you, then you don't try to touch me."

Daryl chuckled and rolled over onto his back, running his fingers through his hair.

"Is it Walker killin' got'cha riled up or ya really just don't like me sayin' that ya burrow?" Daryl asked. "I don't know much about snugglin', but ta me it seems like ya tryin' ta squeeze ya body in whatever space there is 'tween me an' the mattress. The only reason ya don't get anywhere is 'cause their ain't no dirt or nothin' there for ya to dig ya hole in."

"You just keep going, don't you?" Carol asked. "You don't know when it's a good time to stop."

Daryl chuckled again. He knew she was riled up, but he figured it would pass soon enough. She was fun when she got like this, even though she didn't realize that for him it was entertaining. He decided, though, that he wouldn't keep it going any longer tonight. He was tired, and he knew she was too, and there was a lot that had to be done the next day.

"Fine, woman, get'cha ass down here an' snuggle with me 'fore I have ta drag ya back down," Daryl said. "I was just joshin' ya."

"I'm not in the mood to snuggle now," Carol said.

"Ya got sixty seconds ta get in the mood an' slide ya ass down here, or I'm comin' after ya," Daryl said.

"Don't you threaten me," Carol said.

"Forty seconds," Daryl responded.

"You can't make me snuggle with you if I don't want to snuggle," Carol said.

"Twenty five."

"I mean it…" Carol warned.

"Fifteen," Daryl said, yawning.

"Daryl…"

"Five. Ya better move," Daryl said.

Carol started to move like she meant to get off the bed just as Daryl rolled over on top of her legs. He pulled himself up a little and caught her around the waist, ignoring that she was playfully swatting at him. He pulled her down until she was lying in the bed again and he crawled up her. He stopped, hovering above her, and kissed her. She responded to the kiss, lazily battling his tongue with her own.

"This isn't over," she said when they broke apart. Daryl chuckled and brought his lips against hers again, holding the kiss for a little longer this time.

"That's a promise," he said when they broke apart. He dropped back to his original position beside her and wrapped his arm around her, dragging her back against him. "But for tonight it's gotta be 'cause I'm too damn tired for this shit an' if we keep rollin' 'round like this I'm gonna be fuckin' miserable if we don't have sex again…" Daryl let his voice trail off a moment, interrupted by a yawn. "An' the sad damn truth a' the matter is that I'm too damn tired ta do anythin' about it even if ya wanted to have sex, so ya best just _snuggle_ ya ass on up here an' go ta sleep."

Carol yawned, spurred on by the sound of Daryl's sleepy voice.

"Fine," she said, "but don't think you won."

Daryl squeezed her a little and pulled the pillow under his head.

"I know woman," he said. "I ain't likely ta think I ever won nothin' again."

Carol chuckled, but didn't respond. Daryl felt her shift her weight back a little, rooting back into him, her fingertips lazily trailing over his arm and hand. He fell asleep before she stopped the soothing motion, not knowing exactly how long she did it to lull herself to sleep.


	45. Chapter 45

**AN: OK, in this chapter we will be meeting Ellis Brigsby. This chapter, as well as future chapters, comes with a multitude of warnings.**

**If you're offended by racial/ethnic/religious/sexist/etc…etc…etc…slurs, or anything having to do with humans being treated as animals, then this chapter or any other featuring Ellis Brigsby will be one that you're better to skip. Also, though I'm not going to be writing any kind of graphic depictions of things like rape, cannibalism, and other disgusting acts, they will be mentioned and implied. If that is going to bother you, again, these are chapters that you should skip.**

**Otherwise, here goes. **

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When Ellis Brigsby left Harpersburg, Texas, just on the Louisiana border, and started east, he was like most survivalists. He'd been preparing for a catastrophe of this magnitude for some time. He had, of course, stock piled a good number of both legally and illegally acquired weapons. He'd stockpiled food that wouldn't perish quickly, and he already had his emergency supplies packed, inventoried, and ready to go. He had also assembled a team of his closest, and most like-minded, friends to begin the journey with him.

Ellis Brigsby wasn't the ignorant survivalist that believed that they key to surviving a worldwide catastrophe was to hunker down in some unknown corner of Texas. He wasn't just going to survive this thing, he intended to thrive. Now was the time when the little man, the man like himself, would rise to greatness.

The end of the world, or rather the new era of mankind as they liked to think of it, had been a passion of Ellis Brigsby's. He'd shared this passion with his two best friends, John LaFonte and Bill Meyers since at least the age of fourteen when they realized that, given the opportunity, they could acquire great wealth and renown. All they needed, of course, was the pesky government to fall, which it clearly would when chaos took over.

The three of them had been fine tuning their plans since that young age. They'd squirreled away notebooks with their intentions. They'd poured through history books, war books, anything that they could get their hands on in order to better prepare for the coming time when those that thought as they did would take over, while the ones who dared to laugh at them and tease them for their hobbies would find themselves dying from starvation…if they were lucky.

So when the world had gone to shit and people on television were pissing their pants in panic and running to hide in the poorly planned fallout shelters built by the more ignorant survivalists, Ellis had been excited to see that their moment had finally come. He'd immediately put into play his branch of the initial plan and loaded down the R.V. that he'd kept pristinely maintained for just such a moment. As agreed, he met with John and Bill who also had their vehicles of choice loaded for their departure.

The final destination, of course, were some islands off the coast of Florida. They had no real hurry, however, in making it there. The bulk of their plan included spending their lives moving from area to area selling and trading their wares, not only surviving, but truly enjoying the fruits of their cunning minds.

You see, what Ellis Brigsby and his boys understood, that so few other survivalists seemed to notice, was that in the case of just such a calamity,_ people_ were the real commodity. Anything else could be easily acquired, but people were hard to come by. That had been the only real thing that they hadn't already had stocked when the world came crashing down. The old government, the government that seemed to believe in the rights of the weak or the stupid, the government that blew smoke into the eyes of everyone and hissed lies about equality, _that_ government, would have frowned on their stockpiling of people.

That government didn't exist any longer, though, and Ellis and his boys had gone to work, even before leaving Texas to put together their operation. They needed stock. Stock would be what would get them started, and it would be what would keep them going.

Like any good livestock operation, Ellis and his boys understood that first it was necessary to acquire as much stock as one could afford. They weren't selective in east Texas. They needed starting stock and they could work from there. They'd come across their first herd rather easily. People fell to the disease, especially men who gallantly tried to protect their women and children. Those women and children had become the base for the first herd.

They needed bucks too, of course, but those were harder to come by in the beginning. Men were harder to break than women and children. Of course, there were other positions available within the operation for strong, like minded men that wished to join them. Those men, typically single and of the same strong composition as Ellis, Bill, and John, readily joined up as scouts, go betweens, and hands, depending on their strengths and weaknesses. In the beginning they served to service the breeders as well. Men who proved their mettle in the operation quickly moved up in ranks, and their rewards were always appreciated.

Others, the skilled laborers, joined out of the desire for protection. These were typically doctors and veterinarians, some dentists and the like, who offered their skills to the group in exchange for the things they needed for survival. They helped keep the herds going and in the best possible shape, and for that their lives were spared, they were left to work as free men, and they were kept up by the group.

As they'd slowly moved their group into Louisiana, gaining both workers and acquiring new stock, Ellis and his boys had begun to organize better. Things had begun to fall into place. A strict routine was required and everyone had to follow the plan set out by Ellis, who served as the leader of the operation, in order for things to run smoothly.

The first step, clearly, in organizing the operation was to divide the herds. Each head that they acquired would be placed in its proper realm. They were sorted first by gender and then further broken down by use. Any men that they could tame into a position of subservience were divided into beasts of labor and breeding bucks. The beasts of labor didn't last long in the herd, since they were very quickly traded to most of the kinds of groups that they encountered. The breeding bucks weren't required to be as strong of body, and therefore fewer of them were necessary and they remained with the group longer.

The women were divided into what they called companions, caregivers, nurses, and breeders. Companions were the youngest and the most attractive of the women. They received the best care simply because they brought the best prices. One of them was worth at least two breeders or two nurses, and up to four or five of the women designated as caregivers. Ellis had further decided that the next most important category of woman was the breeder. They were either less attractive than the companions, or they were obviously older, in which case they were less desirable and went for lower prices. Breeders could and would, under the system he'd established, be covered each time it was possible until it was evident that such a covering had been effective.

Nurses were comprised of the breeders that proved to be bad breeding stock. If one of the breeders threw them offspring that was stillborn or otherwise damaged, she was immediately removed from breeding stock and the offspring was disposed of. Ellis knew that they didn't have time to deal with such things. The woman was still useful, however, in feeding the young, particularly if they lost a breeder during birth or if one of the breeders was unstable enough that she tried to kill her own young.

And finally they had the caregivers. These were the women who were not useful for any of the other positions. They often lived the most grueling lives, since they were entirely expendable. They did any and all work that needed to be done and that other hands weren't available to do. If a caregiver should be severely injured or should become ill, they were simply disposed of since there was no need to waste time or any other commodity on them.

There were some women, of course, who refused to be broken. Those women were primarily culled from the herd, but if they were strongly built they could sometimes be sold as beasts of labor at a lower price than the men. Ellis preferred not to deal with them if he could avoid it, though, since they could disturb the rest of the herd.

Children, after they were weaned, were to be kept apart from the rest of the herd for the most part. Some groups that they encountered specifically wanted to purchase children, for whatever reasons they had. Older children sold well for labor or for their future as companions or beasts of labor. Those under a year old sold well to the groups that practiced cannibalism and who preferred the tender meat they provided. Ellis didn't care what buyers did with their purchases; that was their business. If they were willing to pay the prices, and he had in stock what they wanted, every head was for sale.

The culling process was simple enough. If one of their head was injured badly enough or became too ill to keep up with the rest of the herd, they were culled. If a child was born that was not fit enough to survive, or if they captured someone who was too old, too weak, or not able bodied, they were culled. If they acquired a few head that simply wouldn't be broken and therefore disrupted the others, they were either sold as quickly as possible to some unsuspecting buyer, or they were culled.

Ellis didn't like to get involved too much in the culling process. From time to time he was asked to inspect the stock that was being culled to see if he objected to the selection, but he had little care for how the culling took place. Different hands preferred different practices. Some hands simply did away with those that were culled, while others with weaker stomachs preferred to leave the culled behind and let nature, and the added annoyance of the living dead, takes its course. Ellis didn't care which method was preferred by any particular hand, so long as his herds remained in good shape. His reputation, or rather the one that he was slowly building, depended on it.

The group moved fairly often, though they only covered short distances for the most part, looking for populated areas to either add to the herd or to locate new buyers. If they came across a large, well established, strong group, then Ellis and his boys typically approached them about whether or not they wished to make purchases. If the group was smaller, weaker, or more easily overcome by his men, then Ellis' group would scout them for a while and move in, taking them and adding them to the herd. Lone men were typically asked if they wished to join or wished to make the purchase of a woman, since most of them were the kinds that were hell bent on survival and would never be successfully integrated into the herd.

What Ellis Brigsby also understood was that there were all kinds of survivalists in the world, but there were a few main kinds, and he catered to each and every one of them.

There were the lone survivalists. Typically these were lone men, not quite of the material necessary, for one reason or another (though usually owing to their weak belief in some great religious judgment to come), to be part of their group. These men, however much they pretended to have some great moral standards, were still interested in obtaining companionship for their lonely times. They would typically make the purchase of a nice breeder or a companion. For those the price was high, since Ellis knew they were likely a one-time purchase. He also offered, of course, the benefit of renting a woman, but then she was one of the less desirable breeders, and along with payment they also received the complimentary covering.

Besides the lone survivalists, there were the builders. Builders had this strange notion that they could rebuild society. They seemed to believe that the ticket was not in hiding out away from everyone, but rather by joining forces peacefully and attempting to reconstruct the poorly built agricultural societies of days passed. These individuals were big purchasers and often had tall orders for Ellis and his boys to fill. They were primarily in the market for strong bodies and broken spirits. They would easily clear out the herd of beasts of labor, and take along one or two breeders for good measure. They'd also pick out at least a handful of children from time to time for future use.

The other kinds were nomadic groups. The nomadic groups were the gypsies of the new world. They moved from place to place living off what they could scavenge from the world around them. These were often one time buyers, but they typically were the ones to desire very small children, companions, or breeders, and therefore would buy in bulk if enough of those were available and to their liking.

Ellis' outfit beckoned followers. The pace at which he travelled made it possible, often times, for him to do business with some of the same groups repeatedly, especially those that were nomadic and who would follow closely with the outfit, as well as with the stable groups who would send out members to locate the outfit and make future purchases. The business had made it so that Ellis and his men had to do very little scavenging at all of their own. They simply swapped stock for the things that they needed. If a group didn't have the payment they needed, then they would sometimes accept a greater amount of less desirable items and later trade those along with stock for that which was more suiting to their needs and tastes.

There was, however, a small group of men who scavenged areas. They typically went out with the scouts each time that the operation moved forward in their line of travel. The scouts would look for groups in the surrounding area and identify which were more likely to be buyers and which could easily be taken into the herd. Those that could be buyers were always approached by a nice representative of the group who offered an explanation of what types of stock were available. Those who were to be brought into the herd were met with a different kind of welcome, depending on how the scouts thought it best to proceed.

Ellis, as the leader and primary brains of the operation, had very little hands on contact with the herd. He kept records, made business deals, and oversaw sales, but he had a dislike for menial labor. He'd been forced to do enough of that before the delightful change of society had taken place, and now he had no desire to return to that position. His only contact with the herd came in the form of time that he spent with the breeders.

Ellis enjoyed trying out the new breeders. He was selective, of course. He required that the breeders that he entertained be of a certain caliber. He had, after all, his pick of the herd. If he didn't like a breeder, then he wouldn't keep her beyond a night. If he did like one, however, he'd keep her up to a month if she wasn't expecting. His reasoning for this was that he didn't wish to know if any of his coverings had taken on the breeders. He had always thought the concept of family and the thought that men had any real attachment to young was an archaic concept. It weighed men down and made them weak. It was only men who weren't able to rationalize, as Ellis was, that thought there was any merit in caring for young besides what they could do for you in their later years. Ellis had no desire, as some men did, to wallow in the idealistic practice of "passing on" something of himself to another generation. If he did engender offspring with any of the breeders that he brought to his bed, their young were no more his than any others. The combination of cells in no way inspired him to waste his life worrying about some other being.

Ellis would keep a breeder longer if they already suspected her to be impregnated. If he was fond of her, he'd keep her until she began to show signs of the pregnancy. Then he'd return her to the herd. He found nothing aesthetically pleasing about the heaviness that a woman seemed to acquire when she had been successfully bred, unless it was simply the beauty behind knowing that he would gain from her another head for the herd, another source of income.

Now the outfit had made their way into Georgia, and just in time. They'd have to stop at a semi-permanent location for the coming winter. It was hard to keep the herd moving and not lose too many if the weather was too harsh. They'd found a nice old farm and it offered enough land to house the RVs and tents of all the men, and it also sported two barns to hold the herd over. In route to their temporary location, they'd also found two nice sized stabilized groups that had made rather large purchases from the herd. Ellis was pleased since it thinned the herd for winter and also provided them with a lot of supplies that they needed for the upcoming months. He could also count on the fact of future purchases, given that winter was likely to kill off some of the groups' members and therefore they'd possibly be looking to restock.

He'd sent scouts and scavengers out the very same day that they'd struck camp on the farm. The scavengers had reported finding a town not too far away and had brought back a decent amount of supplies with the promise that there was plenty more where that came from. The scouts were slower moving, their job requiring more intuition and more study of any survivors they might encounter.

They'd gone out, the day before, though after a group they were looking to integrate into the herd. The group was supposedly a nice sized group, though the scouts reasoned that it was too small to trade with since they didn't look to be well supplied. They had decided, as was normal procedure, that they would take out any of the men that fought too fiercely and they'd bring back the women. The camp apparently didn't contain any children, but they'd reported that there were several likely breeders and even a few women that were fit for companions.

The scouts, however, were late in returning with the new heads and Ellis was growing impatient. They'd been biding their time with this group, carefully studying it, and they had reported back to him that there was one breeder that was of particular interest to Ellis. She fit the profile of his favorites of the breeders, and he had held off selecting a new partner until their return, anxious to get his hands on the woman.

Ellis flipped through a few of the notebooks in his RV, checking his records of the stock and updating what they had. He kept meticulous books. Ellis didn't learn the names of any of the people that were kept in the herd and he strictly forbid any of the workers from inquiring about their names. If they wished to call a breeder by a name for whatever purpose during breeding, they were instructed to call her by whatever name they found most pleasing. In the day to day business, however, they didn't use names.

Instead, the outfit employed the age old method of branding with their stock. Each person was marked with a number and they were logged according to that. Ellis found the process easier, and it helped some of the weaker hands that would have possibly had problems knowing the names of the stock. He found the sensitivity of those workers tedious, but their numbers were necessary, especially when the herd was particularly large.

"We need ya out here, Ellis," John said, poking his head into the RV.

"What's going on?" Ellis inquired. He got up from the table where he was going over what stock had been sold in their last transaction.

"Scouts are back and we got some new ones to get looked over, and we also got a couple of drifters out here inquiring about a purchase. Said they ran up on one of them other groups and want to make a deal for a couple of head," John said, leaning back out the door and spitting out the juice from his chewing tobacco.

"Wonderful," Ellis said with a sigh. "I'll be out in a minute."

John left and Ellis collected up one of his notebooks and dug a permanent marker from one of the boxes resting on the edge of the table. He stepped out of the RV, making his way first to where John stood talking to the would-be buyers.

"Ellis Brigsby," Ellis said, extending his hand toward one of the men.

"Andrew," the man said. "We heard you sellin' some nice lookin' women and that you got some babies too."

"We do," Ellis said. "Are you boys drifters?"

"Not exactly," Andrew said. "We're with a group of three other men. We're camping about two miles from here, but we aim to move on within the week. Just wanted to pick up a little company and game ain't exactly been what we hoped, if ya catch my drift."

The men smiled and Ellis noticed his poor oral hygiene. Though Ellis preferred to avoid dealing with such individuals on a personal level when it could be avoided, he recognized that as a business man he must cater to all types, as long as they had proper payment.

"Well now what exactly are you boys looking for? We have just about everything available that you might like, if the price is right," Ellis said, returning a smile.

"Yes sir," Andrew said. "We already spoke with the other group about what they paid and we think ya got pretty good prices if we can get what we want. We was hopin' ta get us 'bout three good young'uns and a nice woman or two for breeding. This here's Duke. He don't talk much, but he's lookin' to make his own deal. I'm speaking for the rest of the group."

Ellis extended his hand to the other young man.

"What are you looking for Duke?" Ellis asked.

"I want me a pretty one," Duke said. "I got some guns and ammo to trade, as well as a couple a' nice huntin' knives. I'm lookin' for one I can keep around for a while, so she's gotta be sturdy."

Ellis smiled.

"You want a companion, I assume. We have quite a few nice ones right now. You could just about pick any characteristics you'd like," Ellis said. "Why don't you boys come with me. I'll have my men bring out some stock for you to look at and when you've made your selections we can discuss pricing."

The men nodded and followed Ellis toward one of the barns.

"Joe!" Ellis called. A young redheaded worker came jogging over from a campfire where he was preparing what would be dinner for the camp. The scraps, of course, would be mixed with some extra rice to feed to herd.

"Yes sir, Mr. Brigsby?" Joe asked when he got there.

"Can you bring out some of our herd for these good fellows? This one is looking for a couple of breeders, so talk to him about what he might be interested in and bring him out a handful to pick from. This man here's looking to make a deal on a companion, so let him see some of the nice ones that we've got. They want a couple of the little ones, too, but you can handle that last," Ellis said.

Joe nodded gently and led the men away. The boy had joined up with the operation sometime when they were passing through Arkansas, or maybe Mississippi. He'd been alone and the group offered such good benefits that it was difficult for any reasonable person alone to pass up the offer to join. Ellis knew that Joe still had a hard time stomaching the work from time to time, but the boy didn't complain and Ellis figured that eventually he'd be molded into an asset for the organization. For the time being, however, he was very good at handling the herd.

Ellis left Joe to his work and determined he'd come back in a bit to inspect the men's selections and set prices. He passed on to where one of the scouts was waiting for him. Nearby he could see a few women tied up, presumably the new additions for the herd.

"How'd it go, Smith?" Ellis questioned, approaching the rough skinned scout.

"Not as good as we'd hoped, boss. They put up an awful fight and we had to kill more of 'em than we thought. Didn't get no bucks out of it at all. Part the group got away and some of the scouts chased 'em, but they lost 'em. We brought back five, though. Two good companions, they're still real young and sweet. The other three might be breeders, but one looks a little old in the tooth," the man they called Smith replied.

Ellis glanced toward the tied women. He could spot the two youngest immediately. They were easily only fifteen or so, and they were prime stock for companions.

"The older one," Ellis said. "Let's try to breed her. Even if she doesn't produce anything worth keeping we can use her as a nurse. That'll be handy because you know winter could cost us some breeders."

Smith nodded.

"And the zebra? Where is she?" Ellis looked around for the woman that he'd been waiting for. The scouts had specially reported on her twice and Ellis didn't see her anywhere. He figured that Logan may be cleaning her up for him. Logan always looked out for special prizes for Ellis when they went out.

"She got away," Smith said. "She was part of the group they chased."

"Well where did she go?" Ellis asked, irritated. "Where's Logan?"

"Sir, I don't know where she went. Logan went to get the wire to tag this bunch," Smith said.

"Well go and get him," Ellis said.

Bill came sauntering over to Ellis then, a grin plastered on his face.

"Got some nice ones, didn't we? I'm thinking of taking that blonde breeder there for a couple of nights and breaking her in, unless you wanted her," Bill said.

"I don't want her. I don't feel up to dealing with any new ones right now," Ellis replied. He hated it when the scouts went out and didn't come back with the additions that were promised.

"You're mad about the mulatta, ain't you?" Bill asked.

"She'd have brought a pretty penny," Ellis said. "You know that."

Bill nodded.

"Yeah, but at least we got them two young girls. They'll bring pretty good prices too," Bill said.

"They lost the native woman too, because I don't see her in that crowd. At best we got a couple of breeders and a nurse besides those two companions. That's not exactly a good haul," Ellis responded.

Certain women sold for better prices than others in this business. Ellis had become so well trained at judging them that he could tell how much he could get for them within five minutes of looking at them. Of course, there was the factor of taste in the matter, but by far the more exotic the appearance of the woman, the higher the price. The same went for female children. Ellis referred to them as zebras and they tried to breed as many as they could, but catching one that was already grown was a bonus. They never stayed long. Even the men that came there declaring that they'd only purchase women that looked a certain way, whatever that way was, would often take a zebra with them when they went if there was one to be had in the herd.

Smith returned a few minutes later with Logan.

"Where are they? You promised me a pretty zebra and a native woman we could at least breed once. I don't see either of them," Ellis said sharply.

"I'm sorry," Logan said. "They got away, but we're going to find them. They couldn't have gone too far and we're just getting started scouting this area. I'm sure they'll turn back up."

"They better," Ellis said. "I want scouts out tomorrow looking for them."

Logan nodded.

"I'm sending two groups out tomorrow. They'll cover more ground that way. We'll find both of them and who knows what else in the process," Logan assured Ellis.

"Fine," Ellis said after a moment. "I've got to go and square some business away with Joe and a few passing men. I'll eat in my RV. Pick me out a nice breeder and have her waiting for me. I want a docile one. I'm not in the mood to deal with someone who's half broke. And get those five tagged. I need to get them in the books if we're going to start doing business here."

"You got it," Logan said. "And I've got just the breeder in mind for you. I think you'll like her."

Ellis nodded at the man and took his leave, heading in the direction of the two men who seemed to have made their selections because Joe was busy hobbling some of the stock.


	46. Chapter 46

The past three days had been some pretty hectic days around the prison and Carol assumed they were taking their toll on everyone. No one had really realized the amount of items the group had brought back from town, but it was really an overwhelming haul. Carol had taken most of the responsibility for unpacking boxes and bags and was working in one of the somewhat damp storage areas that they'd designated for everything just outside of Cellblock D.

She figured it was a job that was good for her in many different ways. It gave her something to do in between helping with meals and kept her busy all day, but the job was one that required minimal strength and physical effort. At least she wasn't hauling the boxes from the truck to the room. At most she had to move them a few feet to unload them in their proper places. It kept her from feeling guilty that she couldn't work on repairing the fences like some of them, go on runs for building supplies like the others, or haul Walker bodies away from their fence lines like a couple more.

It was also reasonable the Carol be the one to organize their stock since she was most typically the one planning meals and keeping track of the ration boxes that everyone needed filled from time to time. The quiet, behind the scenes, type of work was really the kind that suited her best, and best of all it gave her an excuse to have alone time without everyone constantly breathing down her neck.

With everything going on, the prison had more or less forgotten about the five people they were currently holding captive in the holding cell. The five of them were fairly easy to overlook. They thanked whoever delivered their meals and emptied their buckets, but other than that they were simply quiet. They didn't interact much with anyone that passed by the cells and they didn't complain about their new location. It was a drastic contrast with the last group that they'd had locked in there, though Carol knew it was simply because this group didn't have Alice, and Alice had really been the only reason they were constantly aware of their presence.

Carol knew that no one was worried about the new group and as long as they weren't demanding that anyone listen to their story or release them from captivity, they were likely to stay in the cell for at least a little while. The most important thing on anyone's agenda right now was reinforcing the fences. They were working on the side that had very nearly been destroyed with great enthusiasm. Glenn and Tyreese had already made two runs to two different nearby locations in search of hardware stores, lumber yards, or any place that might offer up supplies necessary to reinforce that area as well as the others. They had figured, while they were going, they would also implement other methods for making sure their parameters were safe, and Rick was busy designing a few ways that they might insure that everything was even safer than before the Governor had made his attacks.

Anything besides their safety was taken care of as an afterthought. Carol hadn't complained at all the last three days that she'd been the only one to remember that everyone had to eat and that she'd been the sole person in charge of preparing, doling out, and cleaning up after meals. It was what she could do, and it had to be done. Hershel had spent most of his time trying to take care of Judith and handle other small jobs around the prison while Carol was putting away the boxes of unorganized items that were hauled in from time to time and stacked haphazardly in the storage room. They'd never find anything if she didn't make sure there was some method to this madness.

Besides the obvious concerns, however, that circled around the herd that they'd fought tooth and nail against three days before, Carol had a lot of other things on her mind. That was the real reason she was grateful that her jobs currently had her working mostly alone and with very little contact with everyone else. It was giving her time to think and it was allowing her time to work through all of those thoughts in privacy. She only had to emerge from her own mind on occasion to take care of a meal or to greet someone who brought her another load of things to be organized.

In the past three days, Carol had carefully considered the new group. She didn't think that any of them seemed threatening, not in the slightest. She'd heard the story of finding them hidden in the store, presumably on the run from some group that attacked their camp, which according to them had consisted of close to thirty people, and she believed the story. She could see nothing in the demeanor of any of them that suggested they would be lying about it, and they seemed so grateful for the refuge of the tiny cell that she didn't doubt that they'd recently come very close to losing their lives.

She'd also spent a good deal of time thinking about Beth. Anytime that Carol seriously took the time to think about Beth and her situation, she was of course bombarded with what few memories she had of the experience that had left Beth in her current condition. That, coupled with the knowledge of some kind of presumably militant group in the area, made her uncomfortable and a little panicky. She'd been trying to keep her own thoughts at bay, though, while she considered the situation of the young girl.

In Carol's opinion, and she knew in Melodye's too, the young girl just wasn't getting any better. She'd plateaued or something and she was just staying the same place. Carol didn't know what it was owing too, exactly, but it was obvious that Beth just wasn't progressing any farther out of her shell and it didn't much look like she was trying to come any farther out. Carol knew that Melodye and Maggie had gone a few rounds about it because Melodye had suggested, in terms that Maggie didn't seem to care for, and that Beth simply wasn't trying anymore. She'd become comfortable with staying away from the others and Hershel and Maggie both were uncomfortable with pushing her any farther out of her comfort zone.

Maggie had argued with Melodye that obviously whatever had happened, Beth had suffered something far greater than what Carol had suffered, and that she wasn't going to just snap out of it as quickly as Carol had. Melodye had argued back that she sincerely doubted it, but that since neither of them remembered hardly a thing, it was impossible to argue about what _either_ of them had suffered. And since then, they only cordially spoke to one another, and Melodye had refused to try to talk to Beth any longer, insisting that she couldn't do anything therapy wise for a patient that refused to cooperate.

Carol knew that more than anything, what had helped her had been Daryl. He had been sorry for what had happened, and he'd been sorrier than he could put into words that it had happened to her, but he wasn't the kind of man that was going to just let her sit back and wallow in it. He'd been patient, more patient than she'd ever expected he could be, but there was something in his nature that made him push her and made him say to her, though not in those exact words, that enough was enough. You licked your wounds and then you got up and kept going. Life couldn't and wouldn't come to a screeching halt just because you'd been through something that you didn't want to go through.

She'd talked to Melodye about it, and Melodye had of course given Daryl credit for her recovery, but she'd insisted, even though Carol didn't entirely believe it, that it _hadn't_ been _all _Daryl's doing. Melodye seemed to believe that even without Daryl that Carol would have made the progress that she'd made so far in reintegrating herself into the group, though she admittedly might have done it at a slightly slower pace.

Carol wasn't sure that she wanted to take the credit for herself. She felt like the baby had a lot to do with it as well. As much as she had thought, at first, that the baby was the worst thing that could happen to her, the more she settled into the idea, the more she wasn't so sure. She caught herself, any time that she was alone and daydreaming, allowing her fingers to train idly over the bulge that she knew to be the indication that her baby, no matter how small and fragile, was there and growing. To her it was a prominent change in her body, though she knew that to everyone else at best it probably looked like somewhere she'd found a little extra weight. Whether or not it was real to anyone else though, and she doubted it really was, even to Daryl, it was real to her, and it had become very important.

For the past two mornings she'd lingered in bed a little after she'd woken up and stayed as still as she could. At first she'd attributed the fluttering feeling to their diet, which wasn't always kind on the digestive system. Finally, though, she'd come to realize that the fluttering sensation that came and went throughout the day wasn't owing to a poor diet. It was her baby, the little bean, announcing its presence to her in yet another way, and right now it was a feeling that was only for her. She knew it would be some time before Daryl could feel it or even Alice would be aware of it, though Alice would pretend, simply to make her feel better, that she was aware of it.

The fluttering was something she wanted to tell Daryl about, and she'd intended to tell him about it yesterday, but she'd been stopped from doing it. For whatever the reason, Daryl had been acting strange since the morning after the run. Carol had no idea what was going on with him, but he wasn't acting like she had grown used to. He was acting more like his old self, more like before everything that had happened with the Governor. She'd, at first, thought that he was simply preoccupied with the fence, but as they were making progress, he wasn't changing his demeanor.

Daryl was talking to her, but just barely. It was almost as if he was avoiding her. He left the cell the moment his eyes opened in the morning and he didn't return until he was so tired that he almost fell asleep trying to get under the blanket. He sat with her at meals, but he didn't talk, and he seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her.

The first two days she'd tried to ignore it. She'd tried to excuse it and let herself think that she was just reading him wrong, just overreacting. She knew that her hormones were out of control, even she could feel that, and so she'd tried to convince herself that anything she thought was going on was totally her hormones playing evil tricks on her mind. Except this morning it had been too much for her and now she couldn't convince herself that it was all some kind of mind game she was playing with herself.

Something was going on with Daryl, and it was something that made him not want to be around her. Since breakfast she'd been unpacking boxes and hashing and rehashing everything that had happened since they'd gone on the run. She had done something wrong. If she hadn't, then something had changed for Daryl. The more she'd stewed over it, the more that all kinds of terrible thoughts had been invading her mind. Maybe the scare with the Walkers had changed his mind about her, about the baby. Maybe he was having the opposite reaction that he had with the Governor. Maybe instead of wanting to be closer to her because they might lose each other, he was deciding that he didn't want to take the chance. She'd worried about it more and more as she went through the damp boxes that others brought down, and as a result she'd spent most of the morning choking back sobs and wiping her nose repeatedly on the tail of the button down shirt she was wearing.

To make matters worse, she felt terrible today. She supposed she deserved it. As far as feeling ill had been concerned, she'd had a pregnancy that any woman would have probably killed for. The baby hadn't made her feel sick more than once or twice, and even then it had only been a passing wave of nausea. She'd been tired, but even that hadn't been a problem for a little while. She just slept better when she had the chance; that was really it. But today none of this was the case. Today her head was pounding, her stomach was churning, and she got dizzy if she moved too quickly to pick up any of the boxes that had been placed on the floor. That, combined with the fact that she could hardly breathe from the havoc the crying was wreaking on her sinuses, was making her feel wretched. She didn't want to say anything to anyone, though. She didn't know what was bothering Daryl, and she didn't want to possibly bother him more. She also didn't want anyone fussing over her, since that could likely bug him, and with everything that needed to be done she couldn't really demand anyone's attention simply because she didn't feel good and wanted to be whiny about it.

She pushed herself to keep unloading the boxes, knowing that they'd be bringing more before she ever got through the ones that were already stacked around the room. She kicked a few of the empty ones away and went to get another one of food that was waiting for her in the corner.

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Michonne bent over in the back of the truck and heaved up one of the boxes of food. As she stood up, she freed one of her hands from under the box a moment to swipe at her forehead to keep the sweat from running down into her eyes. It wasn't really hot, but she was sweating like there was no tomorrow. She grimaced when she realized that she had just swiped whatever disgusting mess was soaking through the box across her face. Her stomach lurched a little and she stood still trying to will away the feeling.

She started out the back of the truck with the box, glancing around as she emerged at everyone else. Most of the people were focused on the fences and likely would be for a while. They were doing a good job, but there just weren't enough hands to go around. She went back and forth from helping them and occasionally carrying a few boxes to storage for Carol to sort through. She was only slowly making her way through what the trucks held, but she was going fast enough for Carol.

Michonne's stomach lurched again and she stopped a second, thankful that no one was paying her any more attention than a man in the moon. She silently cursed herself for having eaten whatever they put in the damn imitation meat that had been served at breakfast. She knew that they needed protein, that she needed protein, but she'd decided now that she didn't need it that bad. It wasn't going to do her any damn good if she puked her guts up because of it anyway. She concentrated on breathing a few times and then she started back on her trek as her stomach started to settle again.

As Michonne made her way into the storage area, she looked around for Carol, the box of offensive mystery meat and assorted other food products still in her arms. She found her, finally, tucked between some of the shelves and going through one of the boxes, stacking cans up as she went.

"I brought you another box," Michonne said. "How are you doing down here?"

Carol turned to look at her, and Michonne realized the other woman didn't look well at all. Carol nodded at her, quietly squeaking a thank you, and went back to what she was doing.

"Are you alright, Carol?" Michonne asked. Carol looked at her again and nodded. She'd obviously been crying on top of the fact that she looked pale.

"Fine," Carol said.

Michonne put the box down on the floor near Carol's feet. She reached into the back pocket of her pants and burrowed out a few handkerchiefs that she had wadded in there. She examined them a minute and offered Carol the one that she hadn't been using all morning to wipe off the mucky nastiness that she'd acquired from many of the leaky boxes she was carrying. Carol took it and smiled at her half-heartedly.

"You're not fine," Michonne said. "Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to go and get someone?"

Carol shook her head.

"Daryl…" she started. "Do you notice anything different about him? Is he acting strange?"

Michonne tried to think about it. Daryl always seemed to be acting a little strange. He was a difficult man to figure out. Because of that, Michonne had never really put too much effort into trying to understand him.

"Why? What's going on?" Michonne asked.

"I don't know," Carol said. "I feel like he's trying to avoid me. I don't know if I've done something wrong or if he's just tired of me…I don't know what's going on, and I don't know what to do about it."

Michonne didn't really know what to say, but she was trying to figure it out. Suddenly, though she was interrupted when Carol's eyes got big and her hand went to her mouth. She heaved a little and Michonne didn't have to pretend she had no idea what was going on.

"Oh! Hold on!" Michonne said. She looked around and grabbed one of the empty boxes off the floor, trying to ignore the fact that she was very likely going to lose her breakfast if Carol went through with what she was silently suggesting she might do. "Here," Michonne said, thrusting the box toward Carol. "If you gotta hurl, go ahead. Let's get you outside for some air." Carol took the box, her hand still firmly clamped over her mouth and Michonne wrapped her arm around her shoulder, pulling her forward and trying to focus on getting her outside instead of on the fact that she wanted to throw up as bad as Carol did at the moment.

They made it through the prison and outside and Michonne grabbed Carol's arm as Carol threw herself to her knees, trying to make sure that she didn't go down with the force she obviously intended to go down with. Carol started vomiting just as she got on the ground and Michonne walked away, knowing that she couldn't comfort her right this moment or they'd be throwing up together and neither would be helping the other very much.

"Alice," Michonne called, walking toward the fence line where everyone was working. She prayed that she could hold herself together. "Carol's sick…" she fought back the urge that swelled up and swallowed. "She's by the wall over there." Michonne pointed behind her and walked off, knowing that Alice would pick up the slack where she couldn't at this moment.

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Alice found Carol and kneeled beside her.

"Baby beans just isn't having it today?" She asked.

Carol didn't respond except to heave again. Alice rubbed her back for a few minutes, but she was positive now that the woman wasn't actually going to throw up anymore. She felt sorry for her though, being sick, especially when you didn't have anything left to throw up, was a miserable feeling.

"Come on," Alice said. "I'll get you a bucket. Let's get you to lie down for a little bit. You'll feel better."

Carol sat back a little and slumped against the brick wall of the prison.

"I don't feel good," she whined. Alice almost laughed, but she held it back.

"I kinda figured that shit out," Alice said, "let's go get you lying down and you'll feel better."

Carol heaved again, but she was just dry heaving now. Alice didn't even back away from her at all, though if she'd thrown up she would have done it directly on her.

"I'm not done," Carol said when the wretching passed.

"Oh, you're done, honey," Alice said. "Everything but your liver is on the ground right now. I'm going to get you a bucket, though, if it'll make you feel better. Come on, let's get to your cell."

Alice struggled to her feet and pulled Carol up. She didn't know where the samurai had gone to, but the look on her face indicated that she was one of those people who couldn't hold onto the contents of their own stomach if someone else was sick. Luckily for Alice she hadn't ever had too much of a problem with it, though there had been one time that Melodye had drank too much and soaked her, and she'd really had a tough time struggling through that.

"There's a lot to do," Carol protested.

"And you're not going to be doing it," Alice responded. She wrapped Carol's arm around her neck and hooked her arm around Carol's waist. She helped her slowly into the prison and directly into her cell. She deposited her on the bed and started to help her get her shoes and clothes off. Carol heaved again and Alice looked around, finding a trash can. She offered it to her and Carol balanced it in her lap. Alice knew it was really more of a security blanket since she'd be impressed if the woman managed to get sick again. "I'm going to go get Daryl. You just lie down for a bit."

"No!" Carol protested, lying back and putting her trash can on the floor. "I'm fine. There's nothing he can do. It's going to pass."

Alice stood back and nodded.

"Fine, but you stay put. I'll come check on you in a bit and see if you're feeling up to drinking something for me," she said.

Carol moaned, but didn't respond with audible words. Alice lingered a moment longer and then turned to go back outside.

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Michonne walked the front fence line and tried to look like she was actually doing something. Occasionally she stabbed a Walker or two, but even that was getting the best of her at the moment. Really she just wanted to look occupied in case someone were to glance down there and try to figure out what she was doing. She'd been ignoring this for a few days now, and it was getting harder to ignore it. It was also getting more difficult to slip away from everyone since they were always shuffling about right now in an attempt to make sure that the fences were strong enough to hold out any herds like the one they'd seen the other night.

Michonne finally realized she couldn't stand it anymore and reasoned that she'd feel better if she finally gave into the urge. She stopped for a moment and let the nausea take over. After she'd been sick for a moment, she straightened up and wiped her mouth with one of the handkerchiefs that she had in her pocket.

Her head was swimming and she was sweating. She knew it had come from trying all morning to keep from being sick, and she hoped that by finally having allowed the inevitable to happen she'd feel a little better. She knew, though, that the feeling would just return later. It kept coming back, and it would be back again.

She circled the lower part of the fence a moment longer to make it look like she was finishing up some sort of self-assigned task and made her way leisurely back to the prison. There was a little bit of a breeze blowing and she thanked God for that. Her stomach was settling a little and the relief was welcomed.

She made her way back around to where everyone was working. Her eyes searched for the brunette, but she didn't see Alice right away. She started into the prison, figuring she might be in there, and very nearly ran into her coming through the common area.

"I was looking for you," Michonne said.

"Oh?" Alice asked. "Carol's doing fine. She's lying down and I just went and got her a few cool rags to help with the nausea. She looks like she'll be asleep in no time. The baby hasn't given her much of a fit before, but I guess it's not in the mood today."

"I need to talk to you," Michonne said, only half listening to the woman's babbling. "Can we go to my cell?"

Alice looked around a minute and Michonne shook her head a little. She knew that Alice thought she was a little bit crazy, and that was fine. The feeling was mutual.

"Please?" Michonne asked. "I just need to talk to you."

Alice finally nodded, her face confused.

"Sure, let's talk," Alice said.

Michonne made her way to her cell with Alice following close behind. When they got inside, Michonne pulled the string that held the blanket back and it fell.

"What's up?" Alice asked.

"I've got a problem," Michonne said.

"One that I can solve?" Alice asked, looking doubtful.

"No, but you can help," Michonne said.

"Ok…" Alice said. "So what is it?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant," Michonne said. She didn't want to beat around the bush any longer. She had been thinking about it for a while, and she wasn't going to play games with Alice. A look of surprise registered on the brunette's face.

"Sure like how sure?" Alice asked.

Michonne sat on the bed.

"Sure like pretty sure…I can't be certain," Michonne said.

"So you're sleeping with someone?" Alice asked. Michonne shot her a look. "I'm sorry," Alice said, "of course you are…it's just that…I don't know…I didn't think of you as the type…" Alice stopped talking and stared at Michonne. Michonne wasn't even making an effort to disguise her facial expression in any way. "Sorry," Alice said. "Did you take a test?"

Michonne shook her head. She didn't know where she'd find a test or how to get one without drawing anyone's attention and she didn't want to stir anything up around here without being sure of the situation.

"I don't have any," Michonne said.

"That's easy enough," Alice said. "I know there were tests in those boxes of stuff that we found. I'll just go down and find you one. Then you can take it and we'll go from there."

"Don't tell anyone," Michonne said. "Please, Alice, I don't want you to say anything." She caught Alice's arm and the woman looked at her a minute.

"Say anything about what?" Alice asked.

"I don't want you to say anything about me possibly being pregnant. Not until I've had time to deal with this," Michonne said, knitting her eyebrows together.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Alice said, raising one of her eyebrows in question. "I think you've been dipping into some sort of stash or something."

Michonne realized now what Alice was doing. She let go of her arm and Alice winked at her.

"Hang tight, I'm going in…" Alice said. She ducked out of the cell.

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Alice found what she was looking for and was carrying the boxes in her hand as she made her way out of the storage room, running into Glenn that had apparently taken over lugging supplies into the room.

"Sorry," he said, almost running into her.

"No sweat," Alice responded, starting to squeeze around him. Glenn glanced down and she wrapped both her hands around the boxes trying to cover them. She smiled at him.

"What's that?" He asked. "Pregnancy tests?"

Alice inwardly sighed but kept it from escaping her lips.

"What? This?" She looked at the boxes. "What the hell do you know? Sure is…OK…gotta run now, see ya," she squeezed past him and started out the door.

"Who's pregnant?" He asked. Alice stopped and turned around a moment.

"What?" She asked. She hated these situations. She sucked at lying. It just wasn't something she'd ever done well. Even as a kid she'd turned herself in for most everything she'd done because sooner or later she was going to get questioned and that shit would come out. "Carol's pregnant," she said, smiling.

Glenn wrinkled his face up at her and she knew he wasn't buying a word, but she was already in this lie and damn it if she was pissing off the samurai.

"But who needs tests?" Glenn asked.

Alice looked at the boxes again.

"Me!" She said. "They're for me…it's a woman thing. Fuckin' periods and shit, you never quite know what the hell is going on down there, you know? But you wouldn't know any shit about that, so yeah…they're for me."

New strategy. Talk fast and about whatever the kid might not want to hear about and he'd leave her the hell alone.

"Gotta run now, have fun," Alice said. She turned again.

"Alice!" Glenn called. She stopped, sighed audibly that time, and turned around.

"What the hell do you want?" She asked. "I've got a lot of fuckin' shit to do right now and you just want to stand your ass in the storage room and talk about the fact that my vagina doesn't bleed like it should?"

Glenn looked at her like she was on fire and she tried not to smile. She'd won this round.

"I thought you were a lesbian," Glenn said. "How could you be pregnant?" His face was still scrunched up and Alice knew that he was suffering a little from her bleeding vagina comment.

"What the hell do you know? You're right!" She said with all the enthusiasm that she could muster. "Holy shit! I guess I'm not pregnant. Better go tell Mel before she flips a shit! See ya!" Alice said, quickly turning and jogging away before Glenn could think of any reason to hold her there and examine her any further.

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Daryl had been focusing on work as much as he possibly could that day. He was mostly trying to stay away from everyone because he didn't want to be engaged in any of the idle chitchat that they were using to try and pass the time as they worked on the fences. Things were coming along, and he was beginning to think that by the time they were done with the plans that Tyreese had come up with, there would be no way that anyone could even drive a tank through their barriers.

He'd had other things on his mind too, though, and they were the things that were most worrying him. He'd finally gotten his bag out of the truck he'd driven back a couple of days before and taken it to the cell. For a moment he'd forgotten about the rings that he and Glenn had swiped until he'd dropped the bag on the floor and heard the sound like loose pennies clinking around in it.

Then he remembered that he'd taken the rings to figure out which one he should give to Carol. As soon as he'd remembered it, though, he'd felt like it was the worst idea he'd ever had, even though he wasn't sure why. He couldn't imagine any of it. He couldn't imagine what he would say if he could even pick out a ring that might fit her. He'd seen enough cheesy ass movies on television to know that chicks wanted you to do something romantic when you gave them a ring and he just wasn't romantic. The most he'd come up with were stupid ideas. He didn't know how to ask her to marry him.

Then of course his brother's voice had invaded his head. It reminded him that he was a pussy for even considering asking her. It had taunted him, telling him that Carol probably wouldn't want to marry him. Sure, she'd agree to marry him, no matter how stupid his question was or how bad his proposal sucked. She'd agree, but she'd be sorry for it. She'd probably only agree because she was pregnant. The baby had her between a rock and a hard place. He'd been fooling himself thinking that she'd actually be happy imagining staying married to him, which he knew meant the rest of their lives, however long or short they may be, if she weren't pregnant. She could do better.

They were coming across new people now. There was no telling how many people they were going to encounter as time went on. She could actually find someone that she deserved instead of his sorry ass. Merle's voice had assured him of that and he was losing the fight against it. She was thankful to him for saving her, for taking care of her, but she probably hated that he was the best that she got out of all of this. She'd ended up pregnant, and that had sealed the deal…if she agreed to marry him, it would be because she was stuck.

The more that Daryl heard the voice, and the more that he believed it, the more it drove him crazy. He wasn't right for her. He'd known that all along and that was what had kept him from making any kind of move on her.

She'd come to him, but she'd been lonely. It had been a natural reaction. People got lonely and they looked for what was available. There hadn't been much available. Now that there was the chance that more was on the table, Carol was pregnant. The voice even had him wondering if that was why she was so moody lately. Maybe it wasn't just hormones like Hershel said it was, maybe she was realizing with the arrival of new people, that she was stuck with something that she didn't want.

And Daryl knew that when he finally dug some of those rings out of the bottom of that bag, he was probably going to see it written all over her face that she knew that she could do better…and it was going to kill him to hear her say yes to him and know that she was only doing it because she didn't feel like she had any other way to go.

Daryl worked stringing the wire, putting all his frustration into manipulating the stubborn metal. He cursed it and in his curses to the inanimate object he poured out all his frustration at everything. He hated every fucked up thing his parents had ever done. He hated Merle for all his shit, and he hated him for dying and never really staying around so that they could work through all the hell that they'd been through and maybe fucking make some sense out of their lives. He hated the Governor for fucking with all of them. He hated himself for thinking that, in the middle of this fucked up world, he could actually have some kind of stupid fairy tale life.

Most of all, he hated that he had been happy, but that he couldn't let himself be happy because the stupid voices in his head kept fucking with that happiness. He wanted them to shut up. He wanted them to let him be happy. Even if it was all a fucking lie, and even if Carol really did hate that she'd ended up with him, he wanted to not know it. He wanted to be ignorant as fuck and just think that it was all good and he was happy… If it was a lie, it was one that he _wanted_ to believe.

"Hey! I need to talk to you," a voice called behind Daryl.

The frustration that was boiling inside him hadn't calmed, and he hadn't gotten it out on the wire he was manipulating. He didn't want to talk to anyone, and he certainly didn't want to talk the voice that he'd already become able to identify over most of the ones that he'd heard in his life.

"What the fuck do ya want?" He asked, slinging around to find Alice standing a few feet behind him. She backed up a few paces, and tripped over a beam that was on the ground behind her, falling backwards onto her ass.

"Calm down! Who the fuck stapled your ass cheeks shut?" She yelled back from her position in the dirt.

Daryl calmed a little, his frustration still boiling inside him. He reached a hand out and heaved the woman back onto her feet.

"I think you might need to come in for a bit. Carol's not doing so hot. I honestly don't know what's wrong, but I don't like it," Alice said.

Daryl could see that there was obvious concern in her eyes. She was trying to remain totally expressionless, and she was pretty good at it, but she couldn't quite make her eyes go along with the rest of her face in its effort to hide everything.

Daryl was a little struck. Carol had seemed fine that morning over breakfast, and he hadn't seen her since. Still, he wasn't going to ignore Alice, not when she wasn't being her normal hyperactive annoying self.

"OK," he said, "I'm coming." He dropped what he was doing without bothering to say anything to anyone. The people farther up the line would eventually catch up with the work that he'd done and they could finish it if it wasn't something that he got back to. No matter his recent emotions, if Carol needed him then that came first. The rest of them could worry about the extra work on the fence for now.

Daryl followed Alice inside, listening to her explain to him the day's events, all of which he'd been completely unaware of.


	47. Chapter 47

Daryl followed Alice into the cell. The woman was talking about a mile a minute and was obviously stirred up. Daryl had been wrapped up in what he was doing with the fence the entire day and hadn't really noticed the comings and goings of the other people, but apparently there was quite a bit going on.

"So I really don't know what it is…" Alice was saying. Daryl realized it was the end of her speech and he'd missed much of the middle.

"But you're a doctor," he said, trying to make sense of everything.

"I'm a fucking doctor, not a magician!" Alice said. "I was training to be a heart surgeon, Daryl. That means I can take your fucking heart apart and sew the damn thing back together, but it doesn't mean that I instantly know what the fuck is going on with all the insanity around me right now!"

Daryl nodded, seeing that Alice was obviously a little frustrated. He turned his attention to Carol. She was lying in bed on her side and he didn't need to be a doctor to see that she didn't look good. Alice walked over and put her hand on the back of Carol's neck.

"Fuck!" She spat.

"What is it?" Daryl asked.

"I don't even need a thermometer to tell me her fever's gone up just since I went to see you. This isn't what the fuck I wanted it to do," Alice said.

She fumbled with a bottle from the table and dumped some pills into her hands.

"Sit her up, will ya?" Alice asked, directing the statement to Daryl. He went to the bed and sat on the edge, running his arm under Carol and pulling her toward him a little. Her skin was hot to the touch, far hotter than Daryl had ever felt before. Carol moaned something, but Daryl couldn't make it out. "Oh yeah, by the way, she's hallucinating. It's awesome because I'm some kind of evil fucking person or something," Alice said. She stuffed the pills into Carol's mouth and tried to pour water in after them from a bottle, a lot of it mostly running everywhere. "Carol, hun, I need you to swallow this right now, OK? I promise it's nothing bad, just swallow and you're gonna feel better," Alice urged.

"What the hell is that?" Daryl asked. He watched as Carol somewhat responded, nearly choking on the pills. He patted her back.

"Just fever reducers," Alice said. "We have got to get the fever down."

Melodye came through the cell door a few minutes later with a bucket and handful of towels.

"Here's the water," Melodye said. "It's the best I could do."

"Perfect," Alice said. "Daryl, you can lay her back down. I want you to get her clothes off. Soak these towels in the water and cover her with them. Just keep doing it. Mel will be back to bring you more cold water."

Alice started out the door and Daryl sat there for a second.

"Where the fuck ya goin'?" He called after her. She turned and poked her head back in, Melodye slipping past her.

"The samurai's sick, two of the newcomers are sick, and Glenn's sick," Alice said. "I've got to make a few rounds and I've got to make sure Rick gets Hershel, Beth, and his kids as fucking far away from this cell block as he can. I don't know what it is, but if it's contagious it's going to hit old people, kids, and pregnant women first. That's basic medicine."

Daryl sat there a second longer after Alice had disappeared. Carol stirred in her sleep and said something that he couldn't make out, but her tone of voice made him pretty sure that he didn't want to make it out. He started undressing her as quickly as he could. Once she was naked he dragged the bucket over and started soaking the towels.

The water was pretty damn cold, and he felt bad about putting the wet towels over Carol's body, but if Alice said that's what he had to do, then that's what the hell he was going to do. He was surprised when he put the first one over her. She shivered a little and moaned, but she didn't recoil from it. He could already feel it growing warm and he'd only just let go of it.

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Daryl wasn't sure for how many hours he sat on the edge of the bed squeezing out soaking wet towels and covering Carol's body in them, but she was feeling cooler to the touch. A few times she'd stirred, and she'd begged him not to do something, or she'd begged someone in her head not to do something, but he tried to ignore her outbursts and continue with the towels.

Melodye slipped into cell every now and again without a word and traded out his bucket of water for another one. He was surprised at how quickly the water warmed just from the heat that was transferred to the towels.

Alice had slipped in once or twice as well, each time feeling Carol's neck. She'd declared that he was doing a good job, and he was glad of that, though he didn't really know that he was doing anything special by simply applying and reapplying wet towels to Carol's body.

There had been a lot going on outside the cell, but Daryl hadn't been paying it much attention. He figured that everyone out there could handle their own situation. He'd find out soon enough what was going on, and hopefully by then Carol wouldn't have a fever.

As time went on, though, Daryl was growing exhausted of the repetitive action. The only thing that made him feel a little better was the fact that Carol seemed to have fallen asleep, and it wasn't the same kind of oddly fitful sleep that she'd been in before. She seemed to be in a quiet type of sleep.

Alice came through the curtain again without announcing her presence. Daryl couldn't help but notice that she looked exhausted. She was soaking wet, her clothes clinging to her, and he didn't even want to know what all the stains on here shirt were. He could easily imagine that some was vomit, and some looked like blood. She didn't say anything. She crossed over and kneeled on her knees by Carol, reaching up and touching her again. She fumbled around on the nightstand and soaked a thermometer she had there with rubbing alcohol, wiping it off on a handkerchief. She pulled at Carol's chin and Carol opened her mouth, her eyes snapping open too. Daryl jumped when she did.

"Sorry," Alice said. "I need you to hold this under your tongue."

Daryl could tell that Alice was tired. If it wasn't in her demeanor, it was in her voice. Carol looked at Daryl for a second as though she'd just seen him and turned her head a little to look at Alice, but she accepted the thermometer.

"Oh God!" She said around the thermometer.

"Yeah, sorry, tastes nasty," Alice said. "Nice to see you're back to forming thoughts, though. You're a step ahead of everyone else."

Alice dropped back on her ass and slumped to the side against the dresser.

"You alright?" Daryl asked. His own eyes burned. He realized he had no idea what time it was.

"I think I'm gonna make it," Alice said. She rubbed at her eyes. "Can't say the same for Eula."

"Who?" Daryl asked. Carol began to stir a little, apparently realizing that she was naked besides the towels that Daryl had stopped draping across her.

"Eula, the old woman we found?" Alice said. "Lost her about a half an hour ago."

Daryl's stomach sunk a little. He hadn't realized that whatever was going on was that serious.

"She died?" He asked. "From this?"

Alice nodded. She pulled herself up and took the thermometer out of Carol's mouth. Daryl watched her as she tried to read it with the lamp light.

"Still got a fever," she said, "but it sure isn't what it was." She shook the thermometer and put it back on the table. "If you're tired, Daryl, I think you can get her ready for bed. The fever's broke, so it should hopefully keep going down. We'll just keep a check on her and see what the next stage of whatever this is might be."

Alice pulled herself to her feet and Daryl got up and followed her out of the cell, catching her arm as they stepped outside.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Daryl asked.

Alice looked at him blankly and rubbed her eyes.

"I seriously don't know," Alice said. "I don't know if it's some kind of flu or what the fuck it is. No one else has come down with it since earlier today. I had five that were sick. All five have had fevers, four out of five have been nauseous. The old woman never said she was nauseous, but the fever burned her out. Carol's fever has dropped dramatically. Glenn and Cynthia's are going down pretty slowly, and the samurai is holding strong at about a hundred and five right now. I would think the shit is contagious, but it doesn't look like anyone else is getting sick, and I'm not sick yet even though I've had a lot of gross shit happen to me today. So, I don't know what the hell it is, but I'm doing whatever the hell I can think of to fix it."

Daryl was worried. He understood that the woman couldn't fix it since she didn't even know what was happening, but it didn't make him any less concerned. It really bothered him to know that the old woman had died from whatever it was.

"Is this gonna hurt the baby?" Daryl asked, lowering his voice in case Carol was listening.

Alice shrugged.

"I don't know for sure, so I can't guarantee anything. I don't think it is, at least not for Carol. She's in her second trimester already. If she weren't as far along as she is, I would worry, but for now I'm not. We just have to keep a check on her fever and make sure that she eats something as soon as she thinks she can hold it down. I think that ship has sailed for the day since it's the middle of the fuckin' night and none of us are eating," Alice said.

"What should I do?" Daryl asked.

"Change the sheets, go to bed, find me if anything happens. If she gets hot again, find me right away," Alice said.

"Ain't'cha gonna sleep?" Daryl asked.

"Not until I get some fevers down around the hundred mark," Alice said.

Daryl nodded and went back into the cell. Carol was sitting in bed.

"What's going on?" She asked. She was covering herself with two of the damp towels.

"Ya caught somethin'," Daryl said. "We just don't know what the fuck it is right now. Ya got a bad fever an' ya been kinda out today."

"Am I the only one who's sick?" Carol asked. "Should you be in here with me?"

"Can ya stand up?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded and got off the bed. She wasn't as stable on her feet as she thought she'd be and Daryl helped her over to the chair in the cell. She sat, still wrapped in the damp towels, and obviously still disoriented. "A couple people's sick, but they gettin' better. That real old woman that came in, she didn't make it, but she was real damn old an' real old people die sometimes, so it ain't nothin' ta worry 'bout." Daryl said. He was trying to sound as calm as he could as he went to work ripping the damp sheets off the bed. "We got more damn sheets?"

"In the bottom drawer," Carol said. He reached for the drawer of one of the small dressers. "Over here," she corrected. Daryl went to the other one and dug out some sheets. He went to work putting them on the small bed that they shared. Carol sat there, staring off into space. "Daryl…" she started after a few minutes.

"Yeah?" He asked. He really hoped that she wanted to go to sleep soon. She'd slept most of the day, but he hadn't and now he was realizing how exhausted he really was.

"Is the baby OK?" Carol asked.

Daryl stopped what he was doing for a moment and turned to her. She was looking at him expectantly, and after a second he saw a few tears dropping out of her eyes, though she wasn't sobbing.

"Baby's fine," he said. "Ain't nothin' for ya ta worry 'bout. Ya just gotta get a lil' sleep an' ya fever's gotta go down a lil' more an' ya gon' be good as new tomorrow." Daryl turned around again and finished wrestling the sheets onto the sorry mattress. He pulled the blankets back on. "Come on now, let's go ta bed," he said. He crossed the cell and pulled Carol up. He tugged the wet towels away from her and pushed her toward the bed. She could sleep naked.

Daryl stripped out of his own clothes and crawled into the bed pulling the cover around them. The mattress was a little damp below them, but he was too tired to really care. He hugged Carol to him and reached over her to turn off the little lamp flickering next to them.

"Daryl," Carol asked. Her voice still sounded shaky and he wasn't sure that she'd bought his promises that the baby was fine. He wrapped his arm tighter around her.

"Yeah?" He asked, trying not to sound irritable and tired, though he could feel it sinking in.

"Are you mad at me?" She asked.

Daryl shifted a little. He wondered if she'd been dreaming some shit in that fever induced sleep.

"Why the hell ya think I'm mad at ya?" He asked. "'Cause ya got sick?"

"You've been mad…" Carol said.

"Fuck ya talkin' 'bout?" He asked. "I ain't been mad."

"You have," Carol said, "for the past three days or so you've hardly spoken to me at all. What did I do?"

Daryl groaned. He had forgotten entirely about the whole situation surrounding the past three days. He'd forgotten about the rings. He'd forgotten about the fact that he had the crackpot idea to ask her to marry him. He'd forgotten about Merle's voice in his head reminding him that she didn't, that she _couldn't_ really love him. He'd forgotten everything from the moment that he'd seen her lying in bed with the fever and Alice had told him to start putting the towels on her. The stupid towels had pushed everything else out of his mind entirely.

Now he felt bad. He hadn't meant to make her think he was mad. He hadn't really meant to act any differently at all, but he realized that he must have, whether he'd meant to or not.

"I ain't been mad," he said. "I ain't mad now. I was just thinkin' 'bout a lotta shit an' it got the best a' me, but I'm good. Ya can sleep now."

"What were you thinking about?" Carol asked. Daryl sighed. She was wide awake. He was over here about to die to go to sleep and she was as wide awake as she could be.

"Carol, it don't matter," he said. "It ain't nothin' ya need ta worry 'bout."

"Daryl…" Carol said. Daryl sighed again.

"Still here," he said.

"I'm sorry," Carol said. He heard her voice crack and he knew that he'd done it now. He sighed and sat up, leaning around her and fumbling around on the table for the lighter. He knocked a few things to the floor and heard the rattling of a pill bottle rolling around before he found it and relit the lamp. He sat up in bed and swiped his hair out of his face. She wasn't looking at him. She was facing the opposite wall, balled up as much as she could get on the edge of the bed.

"Don't say ya sorry," Daryl said. It was too late, though. Her body was shaking and even without any noise he knew that she was crying. The terrible thing was that he suddenly felt so tired he thought he might consider crying right along with her. This was not how he'd seen this going in his head, not even in his worst imaginings of how he might admit to her what had been going on in his mind. Daryl leaned up and pulled at her shoulder so that she rolled over onto her back, a little against her will. She looked up at him and he felt his heart clench at the sight of her obviously crying but trying so hard not to. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was still warm, but it wasn't the same burning heat that had radiated off her body before. "Stop cryin', OK? I'm the one that's sorry," Daryl said. "I ain't meant ta be short with ya, not tonight an' not durin'" the last few days. I had a lot on my mind an' I didn't know what ta do with it."

"What's wrong?" Carol sobbed. "Talk to me."

Daryl sighed and ran his hand through his hair again. He pulled himself up and crawled over Carol, getting off the bed. She watched him as he fumbled around digging his bag out from under the bed. He came up and sat on the edge of the bed.

"This ain't the way this shit was s'posed ta happen," Daryl said. Carol looked at him. At least she'd stopped crying. If nothing else her curiosity had stopped that.

"What's happening?" Carol asked. Daryl opened up the bag and dug around in it.

"I been freakin' the fuck out, OK?" He said.

"Why?" Carol asked.

Daryl pulled out one of the boxes that he'd tucked in the bag.

"'Cause Glenn said it would mean a lot to ya if I asked ya ta marry me good an' proper, an' then I went ta that fuckin' store an' they had all these damned rings an' I got a whole damn box of 'em but I got no fuckin' clue how ta know which one is the right one 'cause they all different sizes an' shit," Daryl said. He opened up the box of diamond rings and dumped it on the bed. "An' then I got ta thinkin' 'bout how the hell I'm s'posed ta ask ya an' I know it's s'posed ta be special an' shit an' I got nothin'. An' the more I thought about it, the more I realized ya prob'ly don't even want ta marry my ass. So there ya go, a whole damn buncha rings an' I still don't know what the fuck I'm doin'."

Daryl looked at Carol then. She was leaning up on her elbow, one of her hands over her mouth. She looked at him and looked back at the rings piled in the indention of the mattress next to her.

"See? I told ya this weren't how it was s'posed ta go," Daryl said.

Carol moved her hand then, still looking at him.

"Are you asking me to marry you, Daryl?" Carol asked.

Daryl picked at a couple of the rings. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to answer that question for fear of what her reaction to it might be. Daryl looked at her. He really didn't know what to say or do at this moment. Carol smiled at him after a second. She reached her hand over and squeezed his.

"Daryl, if you want to ask me to marry you, then ask me to marry you," she said. "It doesn't matter if this was how it was supposed to happen or not. How it's supposed to happen for one person isn't how it has to happen for someone else."

"Ya gonna say yes if I ask ya?" Daryl asked.

Carol nodded.

"Ya gonna mean it or ya just gonna say yes 'cause ya got pregnant?" Daryl asked. Carol lost the smile she was wearing for a moment.

"Daryl, I've been worried for three days that you didn't love me anymore. I was worried that you didn't want to deal with and you didn't want to deal with the baby, and that you were just stuck," Carol said.

Daryl felt his heart clench again. He hadn't imagined that Carol could feel that way. He didn't want to think that she _would_ feel that way.

"I love ya," he said. "I ain't never loved nobody like I love you. An' I don't know that I'm gonna be any good at takin' care a' this kid, but I ain't gon' just up an' run away from ya," Daryl said. "I just don't want'cha knowin' ya could do better an' then ya just got stuck with me."

Carol squeezed the hand that she was holding tighter.

"Daryl, I couldn't do any better. There wasn't a man made that could be any better for me," Carol said. Daryl got a little concerned, because he saw tears swelling up in her eyes again. "Daryl…" she stopped.

"Why ya cryin'?" Daryl asked. These days he never could keep track of all the reasons she cried.

"Because I love you," Carol said. "And because it scares me to death that I love you and you don't even understand how much."

"Ya sure this ain't the fever talkin'?" Daryl asked. He reached over and wiped her cheek. She smiled at him, but the tears didn't stop.

"Are you going to ask me to marry you, Daryl, or am I going to have to ask you?" She asked. Daryl couldn't help but smile at her.

"Ya gonna marry me, woman?" Daryl asked. Carol smiled at him and then she broke out into the sob she'd been choking back.

"Yeah, Daryl, I'll marry you," she said. Daryl smiled. He leaned down to kiss her but she put her hand against his lips. "Don't," she said. "I don't want you to get sick, and if we're getting married there's going to be plenty of time to kiss me later."

Daryl kissed her fingers that were against his lips and she smiled at him. He felt happy, and it seemed strange. This hadn't gone anything like he'd thought it would go. In fact it had gone nothing like any of the scenarios that he'd run through his head, but he felt happy. Carol didn't look disappointed like he'd thought she would.

"Ya gonna pick ya out a ring?" He asked.

"We'll look at them tomorrow," Carol said. "You can help me pick on out."

Daryl nodded and started collecting them up, dropping them back into the box that he'd dumped them out of.

"Why don't'cha want one now? Glenn said it was important for ya ta have a ring," Daryl said. He tucked the box back in the bag and slid the bag under the bunk with his foot.

"I'll have one," Carol said. "It's not the ring that's the important part, though. You already gave me the important part."

"Maggie likes hers," Daryl said.

"And I'll love mine," Carol said. "Things are a little different for Glenn and Maggie, though…and that's OK. We're all a little different."

Daryl couldn't help but smile again. She wanted to marry him. She wanted to be with him forever. She'd said it, and she looked like she meant it. He wanted to kiss her. Even though he knew that she was still sick, that several other people were sick, and that he should be worried about that, he couldn't think of anything at the moment except how much he loved her and how much he wanted to just hold her in his arms.

"I love ya, woman," Daryl said. Carol smiled again.

"And I love you," she said. "Come on under here," she said, holding up the blanket a little. "Blow that lamp out and let's go to sleep."

Daryl crawled under the blanket and extinguished the lamp again. He pulled her to him. He realized then that she was still warm against him, and he worried a little that she might be getting sick again.

"Ya feel OK?" He asked.

"Yes, Daryl," Carol said. "You made me very happy."

"I'm glad ya happy," Daryl said after a second. He ran his hand up her body and brought it to rest on her neck where Alice kept putting hers. "I was meanin' did'ja feel sick, though."

Carol was quiet for a minute.

"I don't feel like a million bucks, but I think I'll live," Carol said. Daryl got comfortable in the bed and rested his arm over her.

"Get some sleep, then," he said. "Ya gotta get rid a' this fever or Alice is gonna run me outta here for not takin' care of ya."

"I'll do my best," Carol said. Daryl heard her yawn and he closed his eyes. He knew it wasn't going to take much for him to fall asleep, and he let himself doze off with the feeling of relief that had washed over him.


	48. Chapter 48

Daryl woke up to the sound of Carol heaving. His eyes snapped open and she was hanging over the side of the bed. It took him a moment to get his bearings straight. His hand went to her back. She was burning hot again, though not as bad as she had the day before. He started to get up.

As he threw a leg over her and got out of the bed, he realized that someone had put a trash can on the floor for her, but she'd missed it entirely. He shook his head a little and started trying to find his clothes.

"I'm sorry," Carol said from the bed. He turned around and she was lying with her head hanging over the edge of it.

"Ain't nothin' ta be sorry for," Daryl said. "Ya gotta puke then puke. I'm goin' ta find Alice."

Daryl slipped out of the cell still buttoning his shirt, the cement floor cold on his feet. He could hear people everywhere, but he wasn't sure where everyone was. That was one of the problems with the walls. Sound echoed off of them constantly.

Daryl made his way first into the common area. Rick was in there, fiddling around in the cabinets.

"The fuck ya doin'?" Daryl asked.

"I'm supposed to be making soup," Rick said. "Apparently sick people need soup. I've got to find it first, though."

"Did'ja check the damn storage area?" Daryl asked.

Rick turned and looked at him. Daryl could see that his eyes were bloodshot and Daryl wondered if he looked that tired.

"Fuck happened ta ya?" Daryl asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"I've been up all night waiting to see if anyone in D was going to get sick," Rick said. "So far so good."

Daryl nodded his head.

"Ya know where the hell I can find Alice? Carol's pukin' again an' she's gettin' hot again," Daryl said.

Rick shook his head.

"She's probably dead somewhere," he said. "Last I saw her she was going into Michonne's cell. Ya might check there."

Daryl nodded his head and turned, leaving Rick to hunt down food for them to throw up. He realized he was starving, but he wasn't going to interrupt anyone who was trying to keep other people from going the way of the old woman. He heard someone, somewhere, heave. He made his way to Michonne's cell and called through the curtain.

"Is Alice in there?" Daryl called.

Tyreese came a few minutes later and stuck his head out the curtain, his eyes as bloodshot as Rick's.

"Not right now," Tyreese said. "She left about fifteen minutes ago."

Daryl turned and stopped back by his cell. He stuck his head in, but Carol appeared to be asleep. He started back through the cellblock, looking for Alice. Finally he started toward the storage room and found Alice, finally, standing and talking to Rick. She was wearing a paper painter's mask and carrying an arm full of cardboard.

"Fuck's goin' on here?" Daryl asked.

"Follow me," Alice said. She walked past him and Rick disappeared into the storage room. Daryl trailed after Alice. "So," she said after a minute, "I couldn't figure out what the hell is going on. More than that, I couldn't figure out what all our people had in common. There was always someone that didn't fit the common denominators, you know? So I thought it was food poisoning, because everybody's fuckin' pukin' their guts up so it makes sense, right? But it doesn't…because we all ate the same fuckin' thing. By that logic, Carl should at least be sick, but he's not and neither is Hershel, but Glenn's been barfin' like he's trying to remember what he ate last week."

"So? Then what the hell is it?" Daryl asked. "'Cause Carol's gettin' hot again."

Alice made her way outside the prison and dropped the boxes on the ground. She turned around eying Daryl.

"Toxic fucking mold. Like some shit out of a science fiction movie, maybe," she said. She started tapping her gloved fingers together, counting off for Daryl. "Carol was messing with that shit down in the storage room. Michonne was unloading all those dripping ass boxes all day. That was easy enough. Then I realized that Carol had used one of the old boxes to carry shit to the cell that we were keeping the others in…by the way I let them out at like four this morning, but I locked them in cells in D block…and Glenn was fucking around with that shit yesterday too. Apparently it doesn't get'cha at first, but if you fuck with it too damn long then you're in trouble."

"So what do we do about it?" Daryl asked.

"You go down there where Rick is, get a mask and gloves, get everyone not dying to help you, and get that shit out of the prison. We're burning the boxes. Cleaning anything it touched. Try not to get it on your skin and for God sakes don't put it in your mouth or anywhere else like that," Alice said.

"What about Carol?" Daryl asked. Alice nodded at him.

"I'm on it. Y'all just get the shit out of there and Mel and I are going to take care of everyone. It's going to take the sick ones at least a couple of days to get it out of their systems, but hopefully we're in the clear then," Alice said. "That is if none of you fuckers get sick."

Daryl watched as Alice walked by him and back into the prison. He looked at the mass of cardboard on the ground and sighed. The fences were half reinforced. The trucks they'd brought in weren't empty yet. Glenn and Tyreese had brought back more materials for the fences that needed to be unloaded, and now they had toxic fucking mold growing in the prison that was trying to kill people? Daryl shook his head. This life might actually be pretty decent if they could ever catch a fucking break and get ahead of the game for a bit. He turned and started into the prison to find Rick and start organizing some manner to get this under control.

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl hadn't seen Carol all day. He'd passed Alice from time to time, walking around from cell to cell. She'd assured him that Carol was fine and there was nothing to worry about. She was sleeping or she was eating, or she was reading something. It bothered him that he wasn't with her, and he hoped she understood that his staying away from her didn't have anything to do with him not _wanting_ to be in there, but they needed to get the moldy boxes disposed of and that was a bigger chore than any of them thought it would be.

The last thing they needed was people to keep getting sick, and they certainly didn't need anyone to go the way of the old woman. As he worked, Daryl thought about the new group of people. At first he'd thought about scolding Alice for letting them out of the holding cell without consulting with anyone else. He didn't really think that she had that right, but then she _had_ simply locked them in separate cells in D block. Eventually they had to discuss the people. They had to figure out what to do with them. They'd already lost one of the small group that they'd come in with, and they'd come into disaster. They were probably anxious to leave the prison. Daryl thought he might be if he'd only seen the past few days.

Daryl's stomach rumbled and he realized how little he'd eaten. He shoveled some of the last boxes onto one of the fires that they had burning near the bottom fences, glanced around at the parameter, spotting Sasha walking back and forth stabbing Walkers, and turned back to the prison. Inside he found Hershel sitting at one of the tables in the common area, eating soup. Melodye was nearby at one of the sinks squeezing out what appeared to be towels.

"Soup for supper?" Daryl asked.

"Things haven't slowed down much," Hershel said. "Soup was the easiest thing that could feed everyone."

"Ain't complainin'," Daryl said.

"Before you eat," Melodye called out, "you better go shower. You've got that shit all over you. I'll walk you back to your cell and hand you your clothes. Alice doesn't want anyone tracking that mold into any of the sick cells."

Daryl sighed. He understood the precaution, but he was tired and he was hungry and he just wanted to eat something and go to bed. He followed Melodye, though. When she stepped out of the cell, she looked him up and down.

"On second thought," she said, "I'll walk you to the showers. You don't need to touch this until you've showered off. I'll leave your clothes on the bench for you and we'll burn those."

Daryl looked down at his clothes. He could admit that they were disgusting, and for the moment he didn't feel up to arguing. He turned and headed toward the showers with Melodye behind him.

"Carol OK?" He asked.

"She's fine," Melodye said. "Her fever spiked again, but it broke. It wasn't as bad as yesterday. She ate something, and kept it down. She's sleeping like the dead now."

Daryl pushed into the showers. Someone was in there, but the curtains they had hung provided a decent amount of privacy.

"Everybody else makin' it?" Daryl asked, watching as Melodye walked over to the benches and deposited his clothes next to a clean towel.

"As far as we can tell right now," she said. "Put your clothes in the corner when you change. I'll take care of it."

Daryl nodded and thanked her and she slipped out of the showers. He stripped and got under the hot water, taking his time lathering up and washing away the muck of the day. They weren't likely to have a restful day for some time, but at least it looked like they had a pretty decent control on the mold population.

"That you, cowboy?" Daryl heard Alice's voice call from a few stalls over. He cursed quietly. He hated that the curtains seemed to promote talking in the shower.

"Fuck ya want?" He called.

"Just checking," Alice said. "If you're not dead tired when you get out of here, come up to my cell. I've got something for you and I haven't exactly had the down time to give it to you."

Daryl was confused. He had no idea what the brunette might have for him, but he knew better than to try and figure her out. As he turned the water off in his shower he heard her turn hers off and heard the squeak of the curtain. He stayed put, knowing she had no qualms about prancing around naked.

"Did you hear me?" Alice asked, obviously moving around outside.

"Yeah, I heard ya," Daryl said. He stood there, waiting to hear her leave. He was surprised when an arm came through his curtain holding a towel.

"Dry off," Alice said. Daryl took the towel and dried off inside the shower. He heard the door open a few minutes later and poked his head out. The bathroom was empty. He quickly dressed in his clean clothes and passed out of the bathrooms.

Daryl made his way through the common area and served himself a mug full of soup. He was in there alone, so he leaned against the counter and drank down the soup without any special ceremony. When he'd finished the first mug, he drank a second and then decided to leave the rest of the lukewarm soup for anyone who might not have had any yet. He padded through the prison on bare feet and remembered that he was supposed to go to Alice's cell for whatever it was that she had.

He passed by his cell first and stuck his head through the curtain, but Carol was asleep and snoring softly, entirely unaware of his presence. Daryl ducked back out of the cell and made his way up the steps and toward Alice's cell. He realized, slowly, that nearly everyone else must be asleep. The prison was eerily quiet.

Daryl stopped outside the door of Alice's cell and cleared his throat. They didn't have a blanket like he and Carol did, but they did have a sheet. Light flickered behind it and Daryl knew that someone was awake inside.

"You can come in," he heard Alice call. "There's nothing going on in here that's going to burn your retinas."

Daryl wasn't sure what she meant, exactly, but he did push through the slit in their sheet. The cell was practically empty except for the customary furniture and a couple of bags of stuff crammed in a corner. Their top bunk was still in place and Daryl wondered if it got in their way the same way the top bunk had got in the way for Carol and him, but he didn't feel right asking, so he left it.

Alice was in bed, lying down, and Melodye was sitting next to her, her back against the wall.

"What'cha want?" Daryl asked. He could tell from Alice's demeanor that she was tired and he wondered if she'd slept at all.

"Hand me that blue bag in the corner," Alice said, waving her arm in that direction. Daryl picked up the bag and brought it over to her. She burrowed around in it. "Here," she said. She offered him a book. He took it but didn't look at it immediately. He was watching her as she continued to burrow through the bag. "And this is for you." Daryl reached out and took a notebook that she was holding out for him. Tied to it was an ink pen.

"What's this?" He asked.

"Reading material," Alice said. "You can read, can't you?"

She rolled a little and deposited the bag on the floor. Dary leaned over and picked it up and returned it to the corner from which he had gotten it.

"Shut up! I can read!" He responded. Alice smiled at him and yawned. He looked at the book.

"The book is sort of a Dick and Jane version of pregnancy. Doesn't give you too many of the gory details, but it's enough that you won't be so fucking lost that you keep making a total ass out of yourself," she yawned again. "I dog eared the page where we most likely are right now so you can find it. Book goes week to week."

Daryl flipped through the book a little but didn't take in any of the details. There were words and pictures; that much he could see at a glance, and he saw the spot where she'd bent the pages down.

"What's in the writin' book?" He asked.

"That's your own special book. The title of it isn't very original, but it'll do," she said.

Daryl opened the cover of the notebook. On the first page there was, scrawled in big letters, the words _Go Ask Alice_. Daryl looked up from it. Alice smiled at him, obviously well on her way to falling asleep.

"I've taken the liberty of writing down a few things that you should know. When you're done reading them, you can write anything you want to know in there and just leave it on my bunk," she said. "I'll respond to you and return it to you when I get the chance. You don't have to tell anyone about it, if you don't want to."

Daryl turned the two items over in his hands for a moment. He wasn't sure what to say, but he thanked Alice and told both the women goodnight. He turned and left the cell. As he stepped out, the cell behind him went dark and reasoned that they were going to try to sleep. He made his way back down the stairs and slipped into his own cell.

Carol was curled up now, still snoring. Daryl put the big book on the dresser and looked at the notebook. He had to admit that it had his curiosity piqued. He crawled onto the bottom of the bed and opened it up beyond the so called title page. When he got to the next page with writing on it, he brought it up close enough that he could read the somewhat scribblish handwriting that covered the page.

_Hey asshole,_

_So I'm guessing this means that you've decided to read the shit that I'm going to put here. Good. You obviously don't know much about women, and that's a shame._

_Let's start with an easy lesson for now. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER call your wife fat. EVER. It's NEVER OK. Do you understand? I don't care if she's as big as a house or if she's just eaten a week's worth of food. It's never OK to call her fat. Unless, of course, you don't want her to be your wife anymore. Then you can call her whatever the hell you want to call her._

_This is particularly true when your wife is pregnant. A pregnant woman is never fat. She is pregnant. In some other fuckin' language, that means full. In this case, it's full of baby. That means that if you would like to remark on the size your wife has grown to be because of the baby (and remember that you put that little fucker there) you want to refer to it in nice terms. Safe things to say are:_

"_Look how big the baby's getting!" "Look how much the baby's growing!" Really any variation of these can be used. Remember, the focus is on how big the BABY is and not how big your wife is because of the baby. _

_The same goes for eating really. Any bonus intake of food should be attributed to the baby, not your wife's (or any woman's) sow-like eating habits. I know this for a fact. My sister slapped me once when she was pregnant and ate two sub sandwiches. I said "That must be one hungry little fucker." I learned pregnant women don't like that shit. In fact, forget I said anything about eating. Don't attribute it to the baby, just don't call any fucking attention to it at all._

_The same thing about "fat" can be said for "sweaty." Unless you've just been engaged in hard physical labor, don't call your wife sweaty. Safe terms are "glistening" or "glowing". _

_If all else fails, remember just to play it safe. If you're not sure what to say, don't say anything at all. You can't put your foot in your mouth if the damn thing's closed. If you feel like you've got to say something, "beautiful," "pretty," "amazing," and things like that always seem to fit the bill._

_Just don't let me hear from my top secret spy that you've used the word "fat" ever again. EVER. And I can promise you that if you thought about using "fat" so far, you'll think of using it again…so practice this shit and don't fucking do it. _

_When you've memorized this lesson, feel free to move on to the next. You may want to revisit these lessons from time to time, assuming that you're not able to contain all my infinite wisdom about how the hell to keep yourself from sleeping in the guard tower._

_Happy trails, my friend,_

_Alice_

Daryl read the words, chuckled a little to himself, and then reread them. He flipped a little, seeing that these weren't the only things that were written in the notebook, but he was too tired to read any farther. He sat there a moment, at the edge of the bed, and considered the blue covered notebook. He decided that he _would_ at least read the rest of them, but he wasn't going to read them right now. If he thought they were good pieces of advice, he might have a few questions to jot down in there.

He looked across the cell at the book that was resting on the dresser. He would read that too, especially if it would help him figure out what the fuck was going in his life right now and maybe it would even tell him why the hell Carol cried so much or what he could do about it.

Daryl slipped off the bed then. Carol didn't stir. He decided that he didn't mind if she knew about the pregnancy book that Alice had given him, so he left it on the dresser. He thought, though, that she might not need to know about his secret little blue notebook. He looked around the cell trying to figure out where he might stash it so that she wouldn't find it by just shuffling things about. He drug one of his hunting bags out from under the bed and shoved the notebook in there, pushing the bag back under the bed. He'd read more of it tomorrow when he got a chance. For now his eyes were burning and he could only begin to imagine all the shit that they'd need to accomplish the next day.

Daryl crawled into bed after shedding everything but his underwear. Carol was still naked, as she had been, and he thought that if she felt better the next day he'd try to get her down and take a shower. That always seemed to make her feel better. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck. He could feel the warmth radiating off her skin and he knew that she very likely still had a fever, at least a low one, but it wasn't the scalding hot temperature, so he wasn't worried. He leaned over her and turned out the lamp, pulling his pillow under his head and pulling her body against his.


	49. Chapter 49

Daryl woke up the next morning to the sound of talking and as he floated into consciousness he realized that Alice was in his cell, talking to Carol who was still lying next to him. For a moment he panicked that he wasn't dressed, but as he checked himself he realized that he was wearing underwear and the blanket was tossed on top of him. Alice laughed a little when he jumped.

"Easy there, boy! Nothing was getting loose," she said, leaning into the lamplight to read the thermometer she'd just taken out of Carol's mouth.

"Ya make it a regular point ta come sneakin' into people's cell's while they sleepin'?" Daryl growled.

"On the contrary," Alice said, "I didn't sneak at all. You should know by now that I'm not that quiet."

Carol sat up and then and Daryl grabbed the blanket, keeping it wrapped around him. He may have been covered, but that didn't mean that there weren't other signs that it was morning which he preferred to keep to himself.

"I'm releasing our patient, for the most part," Alice said, standing up. "There's still a touch of fever, but it's nothing like it was. I think you guys did good getting that shit out of here. Glenn's already mobile and all the fevers are dropping considerably. Think you could be a gem, though, and make sure none of that shit comes off those trucks and makes its way inside?"

Daryl grunted, sitting up. He knew that they still had a good bit of the mold to take care of and that didn't even begin to cover the supplies that still needed to be moved inside, the Walkers that needed to be carried away from the fence line, or what was left of the fence reinforcement plans. He was tired thinking about it.

"We'll get the shit done, ya just do what the hell ya s'posed ta be doin' in here," Daryl responded, rubbing his eyes.

"Of course I will," Alice said. "With a paycheck this fuckin' good I nearly tap dance out of bed in the morning."

"Do you think I can go and help with breakfast?" Carol asked.

"Should be fine," Alice said. "If you feel like doing it, by all means do it, but stay out of the storage area for a few days at least. Let's make sure that place is good and aired out. I don't want you touching _any_ of the boxes we brought in, whether or not they look clean, and whether not you're wearing a mask and gloves. Got me?"

Carol nodded and Alice turned, leaving the cell. Daryl stretched and reached his arms around Carol's waist, pulling her back on top of him. She let herself fall against him and laughed when he was flat again with her sprawled backwards across his chest.

"What is this all about?" She asked, not attempting to change her position.

"Goin' back ta sleep," Daryl said with a chuckle. Carol squirmed a little and he pushed her back up, more than aware that her position wouldn't have been a comfortable one. Carol turned around and came back to him, lying across his chest and facing him now. "Ya gonna kiss me now, or we still holdin' out for what's left of that fever?"

Carol smiled and kissed his neck. She nuzzled his jawbone and kissed him right at his ear, sending chills through his body.

"Gotta cut that shit out if ya ain't gonna do it for real!" Daryl growled.

Carol kissed his chest and rubbed her hand along his stomach, tickling him so that the muscles in his abdomen tightened involuntarily. She slipped her hand into his boxer shorts and stroked him, keeping her eyes on him, that same smile on her face.

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Carol wasn't going to run the risk of infecting Daryl with whatever it was that was going around the prison. She'd actually been one that hadn't been hit that hard, and she was thankful for that. Still, if he needed a little attention, she'd gladly give him that to hold him over until her temperature was where it should be.

She couldn't help but smile at him. His eyes were clamped shut for a few seconds, after he came, and his breathing would take its time to slow. She loved everything about him. Even the way he looked right now, like he wasn't sure he wanted to open his eyes and look at her. He still seemed embarrassed by things like this.

Carol reached over the side of the bed and picked up one of her shirts off the floor. She wiped her hand on it and used it to clean him up. He was watching her, his breath steadying.

"Ya ain't gotta do that," he said.

"I know," Carol said. "I don't do much these days that I don't want to do."

She threw the shirt at the pile of dirty clothes against the wall that was building up. She couldn't work in the storage room today, but she decided that she could at least get a start on some laundry. If their pile was that large, there was no telling what the mountain would look like when she pulled together everyone's clothes.

Daryl sat up and caught her by the arms, unexpectedly, and he brought her toward him, kissing her.

"Ya still ain't found ya a ring," he said.

Carol had almost forgotten about the rings. She'd put them out of her mind. She remembered Daryl's proposal, of course, and how he'd seemed so terrified that she wouldn't want to marry him. The rings just seemed like something extra, but then apparently Glenn had Daryl convinced that they were of the upmost importance, so Carol wasn't going to bust that bubble.

"Where are they?" She asked. "You can help me pick one now."

Daryl moved and hung over the side of the bed, dragging out one of the bags. He pulled two boxes from the bag. He opened them and dumped the box of assorted diamond rings in front of her.

"So which one do you want me to have?" Carol asked. Daryl looked at the pile of rings and chewed at his thumb.

"Don't know," he said. "How ya s'posed ta know which one is right?"

"It doesn't matter, Daryl," Carol said. "There isn't a right one or a wrong one. All the ring does is symbolize that you asked me to marry you and that I promised you I would."

Daryl looked at her a minute and took her hand in his. He picked up one of the rings and started to try it on her finger. She pulled her hand from him and offered him the other with a smile.

"Left hand," she said. Daryl smiled a half smile at her and returned to trying the rings on. Finally, out of the handful that fit, he seemed to find one that he liked because he kept putting it back on after he'd taken the others off. "That one?" Carol asked.

Daryl smirked at her.

"Ya like it?" He asked.

Carol looked at the ring. She'd never really been one that was impressed by jewelry, so she couldn't pretend to say that it was a nice ring or not in the standards of the old world, but right now it looked like the most beautiful diamond ring she could imagine, and that was saying a lot when her lap was full of them.

"If you like it, Daryl, then I love it," she said. She smiled and leaned toward him, kissing him on the cheek again and wishing that she felt it wouldn't be reckless to kiss him like she wanted to.

Daryl opened the other box and held it out to her. It was a box full of assorted uni sex wedding bands. The "one size fits all" variety that would have been common at the kind of store that they raided.

"Glenn said we needed these too," Daryl said. "Said Hershel was gonna marry him an' Maggie at the end a' the month an' we could get married with 'em."

Carol noticed that Daryl shifted and his facial expression took on a look of discomfort.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Ya wanna get married with Maggie an' Glenn?" Daryl asked.

The truth was Carol didn't care when or how they got married, or even if they really got married. What did it matter in this world anyway? All marriage had ever really been was some kind of promise, and the truth was that it had seldom been a promise that anyone took seriously. She'd married Ed the proper way, the right way, with the dress and the cake and the flowers, and everyone had come to watch and wish them well…and look what that had turned into.

"Daryl, I _do_ want to marry you," Carol said. "But I don't care if we get married when Maggie and Glenn get married. I don't care if we get married right here, in our cell, with all our dirty clothes piled in the corner and you in your underwear and me in mine. It doesn't matter how we do it."

Daryl looked relieved for a moment, as though she'd just said exactly what he prayed to hear. Then confusion crossed his face again.

"How could we get married right here?" He asked.

Carol smiled and took the box of assorted rings from his hand, dumping them on top of the discarded diamonds. She burrowed through the bands and found one that fit her finger. She laid it to the side and took to burrowing again, testing the bands on Daryl's hand as he watched her uncomfortably. She found one that fit and put it to the side with the one that that fit her finger. She gathered up all the discarded rings and dropped them thoughtlessly into the empty boxes which she placed on the floor. She crawled up on her knees and crawled closer to Daryl, palming the two rings she'd put to the side.

Carol took Daryl's hand and put her ring in his palm. She turned his ring over in her hand until it was between her fingers. She pulled his hand to her and kissed it.

"I promise you that forever how long we make it through this, I'm not going anywhere," she said. "And I'm going to love you no matter what…even when you're trying to make it really hard for me to do it." She smiled at him. He still looked confused, but he was watching her every move, a little tensely. "And I promise that wherever you go, I'll go. I'll always be right there because that's where I belong."

She slipped the ring onto his finger and held her hand out to him. He looked at her and swallowed hard. He turned her ring over in his hand nervously.

"I don't know how ta do this," he said.

Carol motioned her hand toward him again.

"Just say what you want to say, Daryl. I'm the only one that's listening," she coaxed.

Daryl swallowed again, his eyes searching hers and she smiled. He put the ring on her finger, pushing it against the diamond that he'd picked out earlier. She could tell that every muscle in his body was tense, and she wished that she knew how to make him relax, but she knew that he wasn't going to until he knew that this was over and that he'd passed. Unfortunately, she still wasn't sure how to get him to understand that she meant what she said, and he couldn't fail or disappoint her.

"Well," Daryl said, looking at her again as though he was already searching for confirmation that his words were correct, "I love ya an'… I'm gonna look after ya an' the baby."

Carol smiled. She nodded her head and waited a second. Daryl didn't say anything, but he also didn't stop twisting the ring on her hand.

"Is that it, Daryl?" She asked, trying to make her voice come out in a way that would let him know that however he answered would be fine.

Daryl shrugged a little.

"An' I'm glad ya ain't goin' nowhere, an' I ain't gon' go nowhere 'less I take ya with me…" Daryl said. He hesitated a moment. "'Less it's a run, an' then I'm comin' back."

Carol tried to stifle the giggle. He looked at her again and she nodded.

"An' I ain't never gon' hurt'cha," Daryl said, "at least not on purpose."

Carol smiled and leaned forward. She kissed him, just catching the corner of his mouth and let herself fall against his chest, almost pushing back down flat again. He wrapped his arms around her. When she pulled herself back away from him and slid to put her legs over the side of the bed, Daryl was sitting and studying the ring on his finger.

"So now what?" Daryl asked.

"What do you want?" Carol asked.

"Ya mean that's all there is to it?" Daryl asked.

Carol nodded.

"That's all there is to it, Daryl. Once upon a time we believed that marriage was publicly important because it meant that you and I would share things like taxes and property, but I don't guess that matters anymore, does it? I mean you're welcome to everything you want in this cell, and that's pretty much all I've got these days," Carol said.

"So just like that we're married?" Daryl asked.

Carol smiled again.

"It took the world ending," she said, "but we've gotten back to the idea of marriage as just a promise. It's just a promise between the two of us that we're in this together, and that we'll stick it out."

Now it was Daryl's turn to smile.

"Weren't so bad," he said. "Ya reckon everybody else is gonna believe we married? I mean didn't no one see it an' Hershel didn't even say we could do it."

Carol smiled and reached over, trailing her fingertips across Daryl's arm.

"Hershel doesn't have to say we can do it," Carol said. "We just did it, and it doesn't matter what anyone else believes or not."

She got up and started to get dressed. Daryl pushed the blankets back and ran his hand through his hair, obviously still trying to process everything.

"When Alice tells me that we're in the clear and there's no way you're catching anything from me," Carol said, pulling on a pair of the pants that she liked that Michonne had brought her, "then we'll talk about honeymoons, and that could be your favorite part."

Daryl grinned at her.

"Where's that loud mouthed little bitch anyway?" He said with a smirk. Carol playfully swatted at him.

"She'll be around, don't you worry about that. You better get up. Married or not there's a lot to be done around here," Carol said.

Daryl got out of the bed then and started dressing himself. Carol was dressed first and she stood, her arms crossed, and watched him as he sat on the bed tying his boots.

"I feel kinda bad," Daryl said after a moment.

"Why?" Carol asked.

"Well, 'cause we s'posed ta be married an' it weren't a real nice morning for you. I mean I can't even kiss ya an' ya went and done _that_ an' then we're married? Ain't a very nice story, is it?" Daryl said.

Carol chuckled and walked over, stepping between his legs and pulling him against her. She ran her fingers through his hair, thinking to herself that he really needed a haircut.

"I tell you what," Carol said, "we'll come up with a better story to tell the kids and the grandkids, OK? Leave out some of the details. After all, we don't want to tell the butterbean that it was conceived against a tree after some disagreement while its aunt Michonne kept Walker watch? Do we?"

Daryl smiled and pulled her to him. For the first time, Daryl placed his face against her belly, and she felt him kiss her through her shirt. She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair again, trying not to tear up. She didn't want him to be confused by the tears, and she knew they always threw him. When he pulled away she backed out of his way so that he could stand up.

Without saying anything else, Daryl picked up his crossbow and ducked out of the cell, throwing Carol a glance over his shoulder. She smiled and started collecting up the clothes in the cell to take out to wash. She was a little late to help with breakfast, but she could at least help serve it, and then she could get started on the laundry so no one accused her of not pulling her weight around there. She secretly couldn't wait, to see how long it took the others to notice her rings. The rings weren't the most important part at all, but that didn't mean that they weren't an added bonus.


	50. Chapter 50

**AN: Ellis Brigsby alert for the first part so you know all the delightful warnings that circle around him. The second part might be a little heavy, but I've tried not to be too graphic for everyone.**

**On a totally unrelated note, and much lighter than really goes with this chapter (sorry guys, it's a heavy one), I can't believe we've made it to 50 chapters together! **

**I love all my readers and I thank you for your support as we've made it this far! **

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Ellis Brigsby stepped out of his RV. He was in no mood to deal with the people waiting outside for him, but already they'd been banging on his door until he couldn't even begin to appreciate the quiet sanctity of his little home.

There were always things to be done. Apparently there was a scout group who had recently returned and were waiting on him to look over new stock, there was a problem at the breeding barn, and there was some new man that had travelled a fairly good distance to speak to him about a purchase. He sighed and plastered on the smile necessary to work in any position where one had to deal with customer service. He'd deal with the man first. Then he could worry about the rest.

Ellis dismounted the steps in front of the RV and made his way toward one of the hands that was talking to the gentleman that presumably wanted to make a purchase. The man was an older man, older than what usually showed up wishing to negotiate a deal, and he was wringing a dirty baseball cap in his hands. This was clearly his purchase of the sort. Ellis had seen enough transactions that he knew that this sort of thing tended to make people uncomfortable, at least at first.

"What can I help you with?" Ellis called, approaching the older gentleman.

"I lost my wife a few weeks back," the man said. "I got a son, and the boy don't need to grow up with no ma around, especially when I can't give him all he needs."

Ellis nodded understandingly. This was one of those men that felt some sort of emotional attachment to a breeder, and even worse, to the offspring she threw. Still, if he wanted to make a deal on a replacement, Ellis was willing to sell him whatever tickled his fancy.

"We've got a lot of choices here," Ellis said. "What exactly were you hoping to find?"

"Just a nice woman," the man said. "Someone to keep me company, help me with the boy."

Ellis smiled.

"All of our women are nice, and they're whatever you want them to be. Why don't you give your specifications to my hand here, and he'll bring you out some nice ones to look at. They're priced differently, depending on what you want, but I'm sure I can drive you a fair bargain, given that you've lost your _wife_ and all," Ellis said.

The man nodded his thanks at Ellis and Ellis smiled again, nodding at the hand. He started, then, toward the barn to sort out whatever problem was happening there and to have a look at what the scouts had brought in, hoping that his zebra might be part of the parcel.

Ellis saw John talking to a hand and he approached him. He could hear commotion coming from the breeder barn, and he knew that John had tried to get his attention earlier, but he had no idea what the actual problem was.

"What's going on?" Ellis called.

John scratched at the back of his neck.

"Couple a' breeders trying to deliver, soon at least," John said. "You know how it is. It's got all of them all riled up."

"So? Separate them out, then. Put them back when they're done," Ellis said. He was annoyed. He felt like he had to handle every tiny detail of this operation himself. Even though his partners were supposed to be fully involved, it seemed like they froze in the face of every little situation.

"Where do you propose we put 'em?" John asked, looking around.

Ellis shrugged and tried to bite back his annoyance. He looked around the area. The farm house was intact and some of the hands were staying in there, but it would be difficult to keep the breeders contained there. Even when they were set to deliver, they could still be a handful if they weren't good and broken. Finally his eyes settled.

"That tool shed over there, that'll do. There's a lock on the door. Put one of the caregivers in there with them and let them raise hell all they want. If they bring a bunch of those flesh eating bastards down on themselves, that's their problem, but with the whole barn stirred up their liable to bring more than the hands can handle," Ellis said.

John followed his line of vision and nodded his agreement. He turned, waving his hand at the young man that was assisting him and the young man headed toward the barn where the breeders were being held.

"You been to see what the scouts brought in yet?" John asked.

"I was just about to head over there," Ellis said. "After I solved your crisis. Seriously, John, can't you figure things like this out on your own?"

"You're right," John said. "I guess I still have a hard time handling them when they're set to deliver. I still feel guilty about not doing anything for them."

"And that's why I'm in charge and you'll never be fit to run this operation," Ellis said sharply. "Since you're obviously not doing anything useful, get me Seamus. I've got a breeder in my RV and I'd like to see about keeping her, but she's obviously getting heavy and I don't feel like dealing with it. Get Seamus to take care of it."

Seamus had been one of the first doctors that had joined their group simply for the protection that the group offered and not because he felt any genuine affection for their cause. Ellis was fond of the man, though, because he did everything that he was asked to do without any kind of argument. He was especially good about taking care of the breeders that Ellis was fond of. If one of them started to get a little heavy, and Ellis wasn't ready to turn her back out, Seamus could be counted on to make the problem go away. Ellis appreciated a man that was good at his job.

"'Bout Seamus…" John said, scraping his boot in the dirt. "Don't know how to tell you this, Ellis, but he ain't with us any longer."

Ellis narrowed his eyes. He hadn't been told about any attacks from the undead, and he couldn't very well figure out how Seamus would vanish.

"What the hell happened to Seamus?" Ellis asked.

John shrugged.

"He went out on that scouting mission to bust up that group, you know the one where they lost those two breeders you wanted? Man came back and the next day he was sick as a dog. He kept saying he was taking care of himself, but then one of the hands told Bill that they found him wandering about as one of the undead," John said.

"Anybody else get sick?" Ellis asked. John shrugged a little.

"A couple of the hands got a little sick, but we just figured it was something they ate. Seamus was the only one that didn't seem to be able to kick whatever the hell it was," John said.

Ellis mumbled a curse. Seamus was their only doctor. They'd had two others along the way that they'd lost, and they had a couple of vets, but they didn't have another man like Seamus.

"Son of a bitch," Ellis spat. "Fine, I don't have time to deal with this shit. I've got to go and mark the incoming stock. Get that bitch out of my RV and get me a decent breeder. Check her out good. I'm not in a very good mood, and I'm going to need something to lighten that mood."

John nodded, but didn't respond for a second. As Ellis turned to find the scouts and their new stock, he heard John call.

"We'll find us another doctor soon, Ellis, you can be sure of that. They can't afford to turn down protection from us," John said.

Ellis didn't respond. He threw his hand up in the air to dismiss John from his presence and made his way to where one of the scouts was waiting. Not far from them he had a few people tied up. In a moment's glance Ellis could tell it was a breeder and three young ones. This wasn't the kind of haul that he was hoping for.

"Where's my damn zebra?" Ellis spat at the scout. "You been looking for days and this is what you bring back?"

"Sir, we weren't even looking for this one, she fell into our hands. We killed the man she was with and she almost came along voluntarily," the man said. "The other group, they're still out there. They're still looking for some real nice stock for you. I just brought these back so you could get them tagged."

Ellis walked over to the woman, the scout following behind him. He took a moment to look over the young ones, ignoring the loud protests of the breeder. The young were too young to be of much good, except for the oldest which was a boy of probably twelve or so.

"Take him," Ellis said, "see if you can't get him trained up for something. Start him as a hand and if he shows promise, we'll keep him. Looks like he might be of good use and we could handle a few more hands around here."

Ellis pulled the permanent marker out of his pocket and pulled out the small flip notebook that he carried around to check the most recently used numbers in their branding files. He wrote the boy's number down his arm.

"Get him marked. If he won't do for a hand, we can sell him as a best," Ellis said. "Take those little ones to the caregivers."

Ellis turned his attention to the breeder. He hated getting in new breeders when they came with their own pups. They were always so damn sentimental about the shit until they'd been broken in. He grabbed her arm, which was tied firmly around her back, and scrawled a number down it, checking the sheet again.

"Shut her up," he growled to the scout that was standing near him. "She'll bring every damn undead person around here for miles with a mouth like that. Gag her or whatever. When she's marked, put her in the barn for covering, we'll see if she'll throw us anymore decent pups or if she's dried up."

The scout nodded, trying not to look at the woman. Ellis turned away, disgusted at the entire day's events. Things had to get better around there or he was going to believe that Georgia had been worse for their business than anywhere else so far. He tried to calm himself down as he walked across the lawn. He hoped the buyer had made his selection and that his trade was at least good enough to help bring him out of the sour mood that had overtaken him for the moment.

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Carol had barely had time to drop the towering load of dirty clothes near the washtubs before Alice approached her. She turned and was startled by Alice's proximity.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Alice said.

Carol smiled.

"I promise, I'm not going to overdo it," she said. "It's just dirty clothes. I'll even get someone to come out and help me get water."

Alice looked at her a minute as though she hadn't been aware in the slightest that Carol had just been carrying a gigantic pile of clothes that was now resting on the ground. Carol noticed that Alice's brows were furrowed.

"Fine, no…I didn't think you were doing anything wrong…" Alice said.

"Is something wrong?" Carol asked. Alice wasn't exactly a difficult person to read and Carol could tell that the woman was very clearly concerned at the moment, though she didn't look like she knew exactly how she wanted to say whatever it was she was about to say. Carol suddenly felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, worried that something was wrong with the baby and Alice hadn't told her yet. "Oh God!" Carol said. "Is it the baby? Alice, what's wrong?"

Alice held her hands up, quieting Carol.

"Shh!" She hissed. "It's not the baby…well…it's not yours. Jesus! Carol, can we take a little walk or something? I don't want everyone breathing down our necks. This is the nosiest bunch of damn people I've ever seen," Alice declared.

Carol realized she was breathing heavy. She nodded at Alice, trying to catch her breath, and turned, hooking her arm through the crook of Alice's arm and starting on a walk around the parameter. When they were far enough away from all the comings and goings of the others, Alice finally sighed and stopped, turning to face Carol.

"Look," Alice said, "the samurai is probably going to kill me for this. Like she's probably going to chop me up into little fucking bite sized pieces to feed to the Walkers, but I felt like I needed to tell you. You're supposed to be friends, right?"

Carol looked at Alice and nodded, concern creeping over her. She had no idea what reason Michonne would have for killing Alice. For the most part it only seemed like Daryl or Carol occasionally wanted to kill Alice. Everyone else had grown more or less used to her.

"When this whole fever, mold, hey look everybody's trying to fucking die, shit started, the samurai told me she might be…" Alice looked around and Carol followed her eyes, verifying that there was no one around within listening distance, and even beyond that there was no one paying them even an ounce of attention. "Well, she said she might be pregnant," Alice said.

Carol nodded, trying not to jump to conclusions nor rush Alice's story any faster than the woman was apparently going to tell it.

"So I got her the tests, and it turns out she was pregnant…but I mean not much…well I mean I guess as much as anyone could be pregnant," Alice said. Carol put her hand on Alice's shoulder to calm her down. She'd already realized the woman could easily become overwhelmed and then anything she said was about as clear as a story told by a hyperactive five year old. "Right…so…she was just a little bit pregnant, and she'd also been apparently doing ever fucking thing but eating the mold shit that y'all were wallowing around in. And so her fever just goes through the roof, and it wasn't coming down. I did everything I could, but it's like an oven…if the temperature gets to high then you just burn everything out…" Alice blurted, her words coming faster as she went.

Carol didn't have to listen any further. She already knew what Alice was trying to say. Her heart clenched, and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes just from thinking about it.

"I'm not a mother," Alice said, "and unless the end of the fucking world has a lot more surprises, I'm never going to be. I don't know what to do in these situations beyond a medical standpoint. I cleaned everything up, and then I wrapped it up in a handkerchief and Mel and I buried it the other night over there at the grave that Tyreese said belonged to her friend."

Carol nodded at Alice, trying to get control of her own emotions. Alice was looking at her almost desperately.

"Carol, I don't know what to do or if anyone should do anything, but she's not exactly chatty with anyone. She doesn't want to talk to me and she doesn't want to talk to Mel. She'll let Tyreese stay in there, but only if he agrees to keep his fucking mouth shut, and I thought she might talk to you," Alice said. "She didn't want anyone to know, but we all know you can't keep shit like that all bottled up inside or you'll go nuts."

Carol nodded again. She put her hands on Alice's shoulder to try and calm her down a bit.

"You did the right thing," Carol said. "You did all you could do."

Carol wasn't sure what to say. She hated that Michonne was going through this, and even more she hated that she was trying to do it alone. She'd done it once, alone, and it was one of the most horrible things that she could remember doing. She wasn't sure, though, that Michonne would really want to talk to her about it. She knew when she'd lost her baby, when Sophia was small, she'd been bitter toward every pregnant woman she saw, simply on principle. It didn't actually have a thing to do with them, or with the fact that she really wanted to deny ever other woman in the world the right to procreate, it had to do with her own feelings about what she was suffering while they were happy and their babies were healthy.

Carol brought her hand to her mouth a moment. She suddenly felt sick again, and she knew it didn't have anything to do with the mold. For the moment her nerves were simply shot enough to make her stomach roll and threaten to give back everything she'd eaten for breakfast.

Carol felt Alice's hand go to her back and slide up, resting on her neck. Alice had obviously seen that she was on the verge of being sick and misinterpreted it for the returning illness.

"I'm fine," Carol said, not moving her hand away from her mouth. She shook her head. "Alice, I don't know if she's going to want to see me or talk to me," Carol said. "I don't know how she's going to feel if I walk in there and my baby was fine from all this and she's lost one. It does a lot to a woman."

Alice backed up a step and shifted her weight back and forth on her feet a little nervously, her hand going to the back of her neck and tugging at the hair there.

"It was different, though," Alice said. "If she'd been farther along it might not have turned out that way, but the baby was so small…it just didn't have a chance."

Carol held her hand up, noticing that Alice looked like she was growing upset. Carol wondered if she was actually going to see something that might crack Alice's emotions, even though she'd wondered before if that were possible.

"I don't think you did anything," Carol said, "and I don't think it's your fault. Michonne knows it's not your fault, and she won't be angry with me because of anything rational, but she might be angry just because she needs someone to be angry _with_."

"I know that," Alice said. "It's common to displace anger in emotional situations."

They stood there a moment, both facing each other and neither clearly knowing what to say. Finally Alice sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, tugging nervously at the ends.

"I don't know," she said. "I just thought that you should know." She shook her head.

Carol forced a smile that she wasn't feeling.

"I needed to know," Carol said. "And you did the right thing by telling me, even if Michonne doesn't appreciate it at first. I'm going to talk to her…right now, actually. I just hope that by the time I get to her cell I know what to say."

Alice nodded and squeezed Carol's arm.

"Good luck," she said. "And don't worry too much. Her sword's out of her reach right now..." Alice half smiled at Carol and Carol responded, realizing that she was doing all she could to try and lighten the situation.

Alice turned and headed off in one direct and Carol stood there for a moment collecting herself. She had to talk to Michonne. She knew, by now, that Michonne wouldn't cower away from her in this situation. She would walk right into her cell, offer to let her be as sad or as angry as she needed to be, and then she'd demand, when she was finished, that she get up and get on with her life. Carol knew she had to do the same thing. That's what the hell friends did at the end of the world.

She started back across the prison yard, hoping that by the time she got to Michonne's cell her resolve hadn't faded, and hoping that she could actually do some good in the situation.


	51. Chapter 51

Carol worked up her courage outside of Michonne's cell. She wasn't really sure what she was going to say to the woman. She wasn't sure it was the kind of thing that she could prepare ahead of time.

"Michonne?" She called, standing outside the blanket that was hung over the bars. When she heard no reply, she waited a few minutes and stuck her head inside. It was dark in the cell and obviously Tyreese had stepped out to help with all the other activities taking place around the prison. Michonne was lying on her side, staring toward the wall, and Carol wasn't entirely sure whether or not she was awake.

Carol stepped forward, letting herself into the cell. She made her way to the bed and craned around, attempting to determine if Michonne was awake or not.

"Are you awake?" Carol asked, finally. Michonne didn't respond, but she did turn her head slightly and look at Carol before turning away in disinterest.

Carol sat on the side of the bed. She hadn't been in her cell often, and she couldn't recall seeing Michonne in her pajamas very often either. Carol rested her hand on Michonne's arm. The woman was hot, her fever very obviously not being as low as Carol's yet.

"I talked to Alice," Carol said. Michonne shifted a little and turned her head.

"I should have known she'd run her mouth. She can't shut up," Michonne said.

"She meant well," Carol responded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Carol wasn't really sure what she should say. She didn't have practice with this sort of thing, and she certainly didn't know the best way to handle it given their current situation.

"If I wanted to talk about it," Michonne said, "I suppose I would have."

Carol nodded her head.

"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it then we can be quiet," she said, "but I'm just going to stay here a bit, in case you change your mind."

"Suit yourself," Michonne responded.

Carol sat there, silently, for a few moments. Her hand still resting on Michonne's arm.

"I'm sorry," Carol said.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for," Michonne responded.

"I guess I'm just sorry…" Carol replied, "that you have to go through this. I'm just sorry."

"I suppose you've been through enough of your own things that you don't need to be sorry for someone just because you're not the one going through it," Michonne said.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" Carol asked.

Michonne rolled over onto her back then, propping her head up with hands under it. She stared at the top bunk, her cell being one in which the bed remained intact.

"What am I supposed to talk about?" Michonne asked. "What does Alice want me to say? Or Melodye? Or you for that matter? Everyone wants me to talk, but no one's told me yet what I'm supposed to be talking about."

Carol was struck for a second and then she considered it. It was true. For whatever reason, when something happened to someone they all wanted to know if they wanted to talk about it, but it was sort of unclear exactly what you were supposed to say.

"Talk about anything you want to talk about," Carol said. "I don't care what it is. If you want to say it, or if you need to say it, just say it. Have you cried about it yet?"

Michonne snorted.

"Yeah," she said. "I cried about it. Didn't change much. Doesn't make much sense to cry about it, you know? What am I really crying about? I take a couple of tests, find out I'm pregnant…and I'm sick…and less than forty eight hours later I'm not pregnant and I'm getting better."

Carol felt her own heart clench and she didn't know if it was Michonne's words, or the tone of her voice, or even her own emotions welling up that was the cause.

"Michonne, I lost a baby once, when Sophia was small. I was only pregnant for a little while and only my family knew about it. When I lost that baby, everyone around me just went on with their lives. Nothing had changed for them. No one understood why I was so upset about it. After all, I'd only been pregnant for a little while. It wasn't even like it was a big deal, you know? But for me, it was," Carol felt her voice start to shake and she swallowed. This wasn't about her and she wasn't going to lose control. This was about Michonne and if anyone was going to cry in this situation it was going to be her and not Carol. Carol cleared her throat and continued, glancing at Michonne who was still staring up at the bunk above her. "I felt like I'd planned that baby's entire life in those few months, and it was gone, and I was the only one that cared that it had ever been there and that its entire little life, everything I'd planned for it, was over. It was the second greatest loss I've suffered in my entire life. So if you want to cry, then I'd say that you have all the right in the world to cry, and to hell with anyone or anything that would make you feel otherwise."

Carol could see Michonne swiping at her face, and in response she simply put her hand on Michonne's leg that was beside her on the bed.

"You knew before you took the tests, didn't you?" Carol asked.

Michonne mumbled something, but Carol couldn't make it out and she didn't ask her to repeat it. She knew it was a confirmation from the tone of voice.

"Had you told Tyreese?" Carol asked.

"No," Michonne said. She was quiet for a minute and Carol waited her out. "I wasn't sure," she said.

"And there's no need to bother him if you weren't sure, right?" Carol asked. "You know, if it's something you wanted, you could always try again."

Michonne snorted again. She made a sort of choking sound and Carol looked around, realizing she didn't have a tissue or a handkerchief to offer her and the cell was too dark to find anything.

"Try again? Like I tried in the first place," Michonne said.

"I'm sorry," Carol said. "I know it's not the right thing to say right now, I just didn't know what else to say." She regretted her words now.

Michonne pulled herself up, leaning on her elbow and obviously looking at Carol now.

"It's the best thing that could have happened," Michonne said. She swiped her face with her hand and then started looking around, presumably for a handkerchief. Carol watched her as she pulled one from a pile of things on the table by the bunk and wiped at her face. "I know that, Carol. I lost my daughters, and I don't want to go through that again."

Carol nodded at her. She felt like she could understand any feeling that Michonne threw at her right now. On the one hand it was terrible and heartbreaking to lose a baby, even if it was that only you knew about, and even if you'd only known about the little thing for a short while. On the other it was terrifying to think of bringing a child into this world, especially if you'd already lost a child and you knew the horrible fear that you were bringing another one in just to meet the same tragic fate. There wasn't an easy answer to this, and there wasn't any way that was going to make you feel _good_ in this situation, not as a mother.

"There's no good answer, is there?" Carol asked. "It hurts, either way."

"Well at least somebody understands that," Michonne said.

"I do…" Carol said. "I understand that."

She waited a few moments, but Michonne was quiet.

"Do you want to get up? If you're not up for much you could come and keep me company while I do the laundry," Carol said. "It looks like it's just me out there right now. Everyone else is busy."

Michonne shook her head.

"I really don't feel well," she said. "I appreciate you coming in here, and I know you mean well, but I really do just want to sleep."

Carol nodded a little. She could understand if Michonne was tired and wanted to sleep, but she didn't want to see her pull away from anyone. She didn't want her to pull away from her. She lingered there, on the side of the bed for a bit and tried to decide what would be the best course of action to take. Finally Michonne spoke again, interrupting her thoughts.

"I'm really going to be fine," Michonne said. "I'm not mad at anyone and I'm not trying to hide, OK? I don't want to talk about it…but there's nothing to say. There's nothing for anyone to say to me. I'll be out there, in a day or two, good as new. OK?"

Carol felt like she really wasn't a proper person to be telling anyone to snap out of things or deal with their feelings at any miraculously fast rate, and she wasn't going to be that person with Michonne. She knew that Michonne wasn't like Beth. She wasn't going to cower away from everyone and try to just disappear. Michonne wasn't even like her. If Michonne said she was going to be fine, and that she just needed a couple of days, then Carol figured it wouldn't hurt to give her that.

"OK," Carol said, finally. "You take some time, but I'm coming back in here if you're not out in a couple of days and I'm dragging you out."

Michonne snickered.

"Deal," she said, dropping back to lie like she was when Carol had entered the cell. "Can you do me a favor, though?"

"What?" Carol asked.

"Don't tell anyone else. I just don't want them all _looking_ at me…and stop Alice if she starts to tell anyone else too," Michonne said.

"Sure," Carol said.

She knew what Michonne meant about everyone looking at her. Since everyone had found out she was pregnant, Carol felt like that's what people did most of the time. They just _looked_ at her. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, though she assumed it had a lot to do with no one quite knowing how to process what had happened to Lori. Lori's death had been one in the prison that wasn't exactly Walker related and it had thrown everyone for a loop on many different levels.

Now, whether it was that or something else, everyone looked at Carol oddly. She tried, lately, to make the baby as obvious as possible. She wore her clothes tighter than she'd ever thought of wearing them before. She tried to spark conversations about the baby to get anyone and everyone talking about it. Whether it was a positive comment from someone like Alice or a negative one from someone like Karen, at least when there was a comment they were _talking_ about it and not just _looking _at her.

It almost seemed, as strange as it was to think, that they were more comfortable with whatever had happened with the Governor than they were with the fact that she was still pregnant. The Governor had been a thorn in their sides. He'd cost them lives, but now he was dead and that threat was over. Whatever damage he'd done was behind them, and now all they had to do was simply overcome it. The baby, though, just lingered around, threatening something, perhaps, in the future, and no one quite seemed to know what to do with that.

Yes, Carol could understand that MIchonne wouldn't want anyone looking at her, not like that. Michonne had a certain reputation and visibility within the group, and this wouldn't be something that fit with the image that she'd constructed of herself. Carol wouldn't tell anyone, not even Daryl, and she'd stop Alice from talking to anyone that she hadn't already told, though she suspected that Alice hadn't told anyone except Carol, Melodye, and Tyreese, and they were all capable of realizing this wasn't something that everyone needed to know.

Carol sighed and got up. She didn't say anything else, but she did pull the cover up on Michonne's bed and pull it up around her shoulders. She turned and gathered up the laundry that was in the basket tucked in the corner of Michonne's cell and she slipped outside to get some work done and to leave Michonne to relax.

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl had night watch. Rick was down on the ground, walking what was still left to be reinforced of the fences. Most of the trucks had been emptied throughout the day and they'd done a good deal of work on the fence line, but there was still work to be done. A few small fires still blazed where they'd been busy burning all the boxes that things from the trucks had come in. They'd started dumping their contents into boxes and bags they knew were clean and burning the boxes before they'd ever even took anything inside. No one wanted to take the chance that anymore of the mold and mildew or whatever it was that they'd brought from the warehouse, got tracked inside their home.

Daryl didn't want to take night watch. He preferred the idea of staying with Carol, but he'd been banished to the guard tower and she'd told him that it was alright. Apparently she was tired and nothing was going to happen in their cell that he needed to be aware of, so she she'd hushed his complaining and sent him on his way.

But not before he'd grabbed up one of his hunting bags and the book that Alice had given him. Carol questioned him about it and he showed her the pregnancy book. She'd flipped through it, smiling and shaking her head at the thought of him reading the book alone in the guard tower over the light of one of the lanterns they'd put up there, but she hadn't teased him about it. He didn't tell her about the notebook. He'd excused his need to take his bag with him, saying that he was going to work on some arrows or something in between checking on things below.

As Daryl crawled into the guardtower, though, he realized that a lamp was already lit and he wasn't alone in there. Glenn was in the corner looking more like he was camping than anything else.

"Ya brought a blanket?" Daryl asked, coming through the door and taking his place against a wall.

"You brought something with you," Glenn said.

"I brought stuff ta do, not a blanket," Daryl said. As soon as he said it, though, he realized it was a lot cooler up there than it had been on the ground. The nights were getting a lot colder now, and suddenly he wished he'd brought a blanket too. He wouldn't admit it to Glenn, though. "I thought you was sick," Daryl said.

"I was," Glenn said. "I'm better now. Just like everybody else, and now I've got duty…apparently with you."

"Sorry to bust ya bubble," Daryl said, shifting around and pulling one of the lamps near him. "I got things I'd rather be doin' too."

"There's nothing going on out there anyway," Glenn said. "I've been up here half an hour just watching Rick for the most part. He's the one that's going to know if anything's going on. It's not like we can see to far past the fences and there are just Walkers out there."

"At night it's more for show than anything else," Daryl said. "Makes everyone inside sleep all cozy."

He pulled out his little notebook and stuck it to the side of him. Then he opened the big book that Alice had given him to the page that he dog-eared.

"Daryl Dixon reads?" Glenn asked, sitting up and readjusting his blanket.

"Shut up!" Daryl said.

"What are you reading?" Glenn asked. Daryl looked at him, annoyed, over the top of his book. He sighed, knowing full well that Glenn wasn't going to leave him alone.

"It's a book Alice got me, OK? It's about what Carol's goin' through right now," Daryl said. Glenn grinned at him and Daryl slumped down, pulling the book up a little so he didn't have to look at the boy's shit eating grin. Without saying anything the kid was taunting him.

"Can I see it?" Glenn asked.

"Get'cha own damn books," Daryl growled.

"Don't be like that," Glenn said. "It's boring up here, and if I keep watching Rick like this he's going to get the wrong idea about things. Can I see the other one?"

Daryl realized that now the boy had spotted his blue notebook tucked beside him. He sighed, realizing he wasn't reading the big book in his lap anyway. He folded down the corner of the page again, closed the book, and slid it across the floor toward Glenn. Glenn crawled forward, pulling it to him and grabbed another of the lanterns, sinking back against the wall again and readjusting the blanket.

"What's the little one about?" Glenn asked.

"None a' ya damn business. Shut up an' look at the damn one ya got an' don't'cha say a damn thing ta nobody or I'll knock ya out," Daryl growled.

"Don't worry," Glenn said, opening up the big book. "I won't let on to anyone that Daryl Dixon cares about women's woes."

Daryl curled his lip at Glenn, but Glenn was already flipping through pages and not paying him any attention. He pulled open his little notebook and skipped past the first lesson that he'd read from Alice and focused on the next.

_Back again? You're one hell of a student!_

_This one's important. _

_You made a very big slip in my office that made you sound like an asshole. Don't do it again. Do not EVER say that there is something "wrong" with your kid. Don't even ask it. You don't have enough degrees to use that word, and especially not before the kid is born._

_There's nothing wrong with that kid. Not one damn thing. Apparently some people around here, who shall remain nameless, thought there might be, but there isn't a damn thing wrong with it. It's just like every other kid in the same position. It looks like a little fuckin' alien and it's acting like a parasite. That's it. That's all the damn thing does, all day, every day._

_Your kid's current activities include swimming around in what's essentially a fuckin' waterbed in your wife's gut. Nice image, huh? There are better ones in the big book. You're reading that, aren't you? You better fucking read it because if you just look at the pictures you're going to be flipping a shit and you're likely to vomit over a few. If they showed that shit to women before they ever got pregnant there'd be a lot fewer of those Walker things outside the fences, you can bet your nuts on that. _

_The rest of the day the kid spends sucking whatever the fuck food and water and any damn thing else it needs out of your wife's body through this little hose thing. That's why the hell you see me picking through her food all the damn time. I don't have some kind of kinky ass food fetish. I just know that we eat a lot of shit these days, and she's got to eat less of the shit and more of the good stuff because she doesn't get to keep a whole damn lot of what she gets. _

_That's it. That's your kid in a nutshell. Exciting little motherfucker, ain't it? But that's what the hell it's supposed to do, so there's nothing wrong with that. _

_The reason you can't say it, you might ask? Well it's simple. When you say the word "wrong" you're dumbass is simply saying that something doesn't register on your radar (and I'm guessing a whole lot of shit flies right over, right?), but when a woman hears the word "wrong" in reference to her child, she becomes like fucking superman. She can jump to the worst fucking conclusions and cause herself a total meltdown in less time than it takes the average person to sneeze. _

_So don't say "wrong." If you should care to inquire about the health of your child, use "positive terms". You can ask things like "Is the baby OK?" "Is everything fine with the baby?" "How is the baby?" The key here is to keep things positive. By using positive terms, you're indicating that you don't think there's a problem, you just want some damn body to verify that. That's one of those psychological pointers. Melodye says "hi", by the way._

_So there you have it. An easy little lesson to make your life better and keep Carol from suffering quite as many fucking cardiac episodes as you seem to want to put her through. We all appreciate your dedication to testing the strength of her heart and shit, but it's really not necessary. _

_Your kid is fine. You have my permission to punch anyone in the nose that says otherwise, and then send them to me to stop the bleeding. _

_Now I don't know what the hell you're doing while you're reading this shit, but wipe your nasty ass or whatever you need to do and get your ass back to work. _

_Over and out,_

_Alice_

Daryl scanned the page a second time and tucked the notebook back in his bag. That was the second reference that Alice had made to the fact that this kid had a waterbed, and Daryl was slightly curious about it. He wondered how hard it would be to find a picture of this thing in that book. He made sure his notebook was out of sight so that Glenn couldn't get his grubby hands on it and he got up, crossing the tower to where Glenn was sitting, his face scrunched up, looking hard at the book on his lap.

"Gimme that back," Daryl said, reaching his hand out for the book.

Glenn looked up at him, his face scrunched a little.

"You better be nice to Carol," Glenn said. "I'm going to be nice to Maggie just to get a head start on this. Have you _looked_ at some of these pictures?"

Daryl glanced down but didn't really look at the pictures. Glenn was already near the back of the book, just looking at pictures and turning the pages.

"No, I ain't hardly looked at none a' the book, but I wanta see somethin', so gimme the book," Daryl commanded again.

Glenn closed the book and handed it to Daryl.

"Gladly," Glenn said. "I'd rather watch the Walkers trying to get in the fence. Geez, they call that shit a _miracle_ in there. It didn't look too miraculous to me."

Daryl took the book and crossed back over the room and sat down. He took a moment to look out over the prison yard. He couldn't see much of anything beyond the smoldering fires and the distant silhouette of Rick ridding Walkers from around the fence line.

Daryl was a little nervous now about looking at any pictures in the book. Glenn's face was stuck with the same troubled expression. Still, Daryl knew that Alice was going to bug him about whether or not he'd read the stupid book and he was curious. He opened the book back to the dog-eared page and immediately put his hand over the picture. He decided that if he read the pages first and then looked at the picture, maybe it would freak him out like it had apparently done to Glenn.

Daryl wasn't a speed reader, and he imagined it was going to take Carol less time to grow the kid than it was going to take him to read about it, but as he went along, he did find it rather interesting. There was a lot of stuff that he didn't know about, and the more he read, the more he realized that he didn't know much of anything about this baby stuff. He even dug the pen out of the bag that Alice had tied to his notebook and underlined a couple of things in the book so that he'd remember that he wanted to put them in his notebook for Alice to write about.

"You're really into that, aren't you?" Glenn said, snapping Daryl out of his focus.

"What?" Daryl asked.

"You're really into that book," Glenn said. "You look like you're studying for some big exam or something over there."

Daryl rolled his eyes at Glenn. This would be much easier without an audience making him feel even dumber for looking at the book.

"Man, shut up! What the hell's it matter to ya what I read?" Daryl asked.

Glenn chuckled a little.

"Calm down, Daryl. I'm not making fun of you," Glenn said. "I think it's good that you give a shit. I mean it's your kid too, right?"

Daryl didn't respond. He wasn't sure that he trusted that Glenn wasn't going to harass him about this. Glenn leaned back and looked out over the yard, and then he turned his attention back to Daryl. Daryl was still watching him over the book, not wanting to get back to reading until he was sure that Glenn really was going to leave him alone.

"By the way," Glenn said, "what was all that with the rings?"

"What'cha mean?" Daryl asked.

"Maggie comes stomping up to me earlier and says that Carol's telling everyone you two got married already," Glenn said.

"We did. This mornin' 'fore breakfast," Daryl said.

"So what? You just got married and didn't tell anyone? Who married you?" Glenn asked.

"We married each other," Daryl said. "An' we didn't want nobody else there."

"No dress? Nothing?" Glenn asked.

Daryl shook his head. Hell, there hadn't been a dress. Carol hadn't even been wearing a bra, just panties and he'd been wearing boxers. They couldn't have anyone else there anyway because they weren't decent for company…except for maybe Alice, because she didn't seem to give a damn if you were stark ass naked or not.

Glenn chuckled.

"And Carol was fine with that? She didn't want something 'special'?" Glenn asked, waving his hands at the last word.

"Was her idea," Daryl said.

"Don't you just get all the luck," Glenn said. "I had to cover Maggie at some store while she was finding a dress that she was happy with, and she's planning some kind of prison social event of the season for the wedding, and you just get married in your cell and nobody even knows about it until Maggie said they were doing laundry and she noticed Carol was wearing rings."

"My woman ain't all about shows," Daryl said. "It's somethin' we got in common. Just 'cause everybody ain't talkin' 'bout it, don't mean it ain't real. Same goes for our kid."

"I'm sure that's next on Maggie's list," Glenn said, "though I'm not sure how I feel about it right now. There's so much that's out of our control right now, you know? I mean I'd love to have kids with Maggie, but I don't exactly like the idea of thinking that I couldn't take care of them. I mean look at what happened to Sophia, and she was more able to take care of herself than a baby would be."

Daryl chewed at the skin on his thumb. These were things he didn't want to talk about, and he didn't want to think about them either. Every time he started to think about them, he got this really funny feeling in the pit of his stomach and it got harder to breathe…and right now it was way too dark to go hunting and try to get his mind on something else.

"Sorry," Glenn said, apparently realizing that Daryl might not want to talk about this. "I didn't mean it was the same for you or anything, I was just…" Glenn paused for a minute, looking uncomfortably at Daryl. "Sorry," he repeated.

Daryl didn't say anything. He sat there, waiting until he was sure that Glenn was going to shut up, and then he tried to focus on his book again, hoping it would distract him and eventually the feeling in his stomach would go away. Glenn must have gotten the message, because he was quiet for nearly the rest of the entire watch.


	52. Chapter 52

When Daryl finally shuffled back into the cell after watch, he was exhausted. Nothing had happened on watch, which was a good thing, but it also meant that the hours drug on. Glenn had fallen asleep a few times, and Daryl had let him sleep. He knew the boy had been sick and he probably needed the rest. It wasn't like he was really doing anything anyway.

Daryl had read far more of the book that Alice gave him than he'd intended, though he'd kept his notebook tucked in his hunting bag. The pictures in the book that he had looked at were weird, and that was the best that he could use to describe them. The drawings that the book had made him think Alice was right. The baby looked like an alien or something. He was having a hard time thinking that little alien looking baby was inside of Carol and that one day it was going to come out and look like an honest to goodness kid.

Daryl slid his bag under the bed, noticing that Carol had left the lamp on for him. He rubbed his eyes and stripped out of his clothes until he was down to underwear. The chill in the cell brought goose bumps to his skin almost immediately and he rushed to crawl over Carol and slide under the blanket.

He was so tired that he almost didn't notice, until he was under the blanket and moved to pull Carol to him, that she wasn't asleep. She was just lying on her side, staring off. If she hadn't sniffled a little, he wouldn't have paid it any attention.

"Ya ain't sleepin'?" He asked.

"Can we let those new people out of those cells?" Carol asked.

Daryl was confused for a moment. He had no idea why it was a couple of hours from sun up and Carol was sniffling in their cell and thinking about the new people whose names he hadn't even learned.

"I'll talk to Rick in the mornin'," he said.

Carol started to pull away from him and he tried to pull her back, but she pried his hands off of her.

"I have to go to the bathroom," she protested when he grabbed at her. When she sat on the edge of the bed Daryl could tell that she was tired. Apparently she hadn't spent much of the night sleeping if any.

"I'll go with ya," Daryl said, starting to sit up.

"No," she said. "I can pee on my own. I'll be back."

Carol got up and Daryl watched her leave the cell. He sat, waiting for her return, and wondering if there was going to be any sleep for either of them.

When she finally did come back, it was evident to Daryl that she'd been crying, though she had it under control now. Her eyes and nose were red, though, and she kind of looked lost when she first came into the cell. Daryl shifted his weight in the bed and sat up a little.

"Ya OK?" He asked. He hoped the fever wasn't back. He thought they'd done a good job of cleaning the place out, but it was always possible that they'd missed something.

"You know those people are scared," Carol said. "Their group got attacked, Daryl. They ran into y'all and now they're locked in prison cells. One of their people died here, Daryl. They're probably terrified." She started wiping at her eyes again and Daryl realized this was something that was really bothering her.

"Come 'ere," he said. "It's cold in here, get under the cover an' tomorrow we'll let 'em out. If we let 'em out right now we'd just be wakin' 'em up ta tell 'em they could go back ta sleep with the doors open."

Carol nodded and came back to bed. Daryl pulled her close against him, leaning over and extinguishing the lamp. She was shivering a little, and Daryl pulled her as tight to him as he could get her, wrapping both his arms and legs around her.

"It's a horrible thing to be scared," Carol said. "We have no right to do that to anyone."

Daryl squeezed her a little more.

"We ain't had much choice. We don't know who the hell we dealin' with an' we gotta keep us safe first. We worry 'bout everyone else later. We gon' see about lettin' 'em out, though. Right now, Carol, ya gotta get some sleep. I'm dog tired an' I know ya is too," Daryl said.

Daryl closed his eyes, his head swimming a little with the overwhelming desire to sleep. Carol was curled into him, her face against his neck, and he could feel her breath tickling him a little. She was soft and warm and comfortable. All words that Daryl suddenly realized he'd never exactly needed to describe anything in his life before. He could feel her, pressed against him, and he could feel where the small bulge that was supposed to be their kid pressed into his body. She must have warmed up too, because she stopped shivering and it wasn't long until they both fell asleep.

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When Carol woke up, she knew they'd slept longer than either of them intended. She felt too rested to have slept only the few hours that would have been left after Daryl's watch was over. Daryl was still asleep, curled around her, and she lie still for a few minutes, enjoying the security that came with being almost buried underneath him. She was hot, and it was super easy to breathe, but she still felt more comfortable there than she could have explained if someone had asked her to do so.

She shifted a little. She could feel the now familiar fluttering in her abdomen and she knew she wasn't the only one awake in the cell now. She smiled and kissed Daryl's collarbone, wondering if she should try to slide out without waking him or go ahead and break it to him that they had things that had to be done.

Outside of the cell she could hear the evidence that the prison was already alive. Somewhere Judith's howling echoed and she knew that Rick was trying to quiet the girl. She felt strange, realizing that if Alice was correct, she'd have her own little one to quiet down in less than six months. She wondered how Daryl was going to deal with that. He was being so good about everything, but sometimes she wondered how much of it he just took on the day to day and didn't think about in great detail.

She knew that Alice had given him some kind of pregnancy book, he'd taken it on watch with him, but she couldn't imagine Daryl actually reading it. It just didn't quite seem like something that Daryl would do.

Focusing on things so much made Carol realize she had to pee again, and she pushed at Daryl a little, waking him. He hated to wake up in the morning. Getting him to wake up was about the same as trying to wake a child up. He always did it slowly and tried to convince her, before he was fully awake, that they could go back to sleep and there was no need to move.

"Daryl, wake up," she said, suddenly feeling more trapped than she had before. He mumbled. "Daryl, you've got to move, I've got to get up."

When she realized he was coming around, blinking at her, she chuckled at him a little.

"Sleepy head," she said, "we've already overslept and I've got to pee."

"What time is it?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know," Carol said. "I know it's time for me to get up now. Why don't you get up and go find Rick? Ask him about letting those people out?"

Daryl grumbled a little but finally shifted his weight and Carol freed herself, scrambling out of the bed as quickly as she could and started dressing. She shivered a little and decided that something a little warmer than what she'd been wearing might be in order for the day.

"You get up," she said, "and go find Rick and I'm going to find Alice."

Daryl sat up a little then, obviously coming around.

"Ya OK? What'cha need her for?" He asked.

"I'm fine," Carol said, chasing her shoe around with her foot while trying to concentrate on not wetting herself. "I'm going to see about your honeymoon. Go find Rick." She commanded the last part and didn't turn back to see if Daryl was done transforming into a human. She rushed out of the cell and toward the bathroom, hoping that she didn't run into anybody and wasn't forced to perform the I'll get out of your way if you'll get out of mine dance because she wasn't sure she'd make it through this round gracefully.

When Carol was on her way back through the prison, and moving with a little less determination, she slipped into the common room to see if there was anything left from the breakfast that they'd obviously missed. She found Hershel sitting at the table with Judith in his lap and Alice was sitting near him, jotting things down on a piece of paper. Both of them looked at Carol when she walked in.

"Morning Mama!" Alice announced. Carol stopped a minute. Something was different about Alice and it took her a second to put her finger on it. She realized, then, that Alice's once long hair, was now cropped short and stuck out everywhere in varying lengths.

"What happened to your hair?" Carol asked.

Alice ran her hand through her hair.

"I cut it. There's a bowl of oatmeal and some honey over there, you should probably eat it before it turns to cement," Alice said.

Carol found the bowl and came around, sitting in front of Alice at the table. Hershel sat near her, but didn't say anything.

"Alice did you do that on purpose?" Carol asked.

"Why?" Alice asked. "Yes I did it on purpose. People don't usually cut their hair by accident, do they? Mel!" Alice called. A few minutes later, Melodye appeared carrying a diaper and a bottle for Judith.

"What?" She asked, passing the bottle to Hershel.

"You said it didn't look bad!" Alice said.

Melodye looked at her and then looked at Carol, smiling. She walked over and ruffled Alice's chopped up hair.

"I said that you looked beautiful, Al," Melodye said. "I didn't say a thing about your hair."

"Fuckin' great," Alice said. Melodye laughed and ruffled her hair again, circling around to sit near Hershel and take Judith.

"It's not that bad," Carol said. "I could fix it for you, once I finish this gourmet breakfast."

Alice looked at her, but Carol could tell that it was one that meant she'd appreciate the help.

"I wanted to ask you something," Carol said, choking down some more of the overly sticky oatmeal.

"Shoot," Alice said.

"I wondered if you think the fever's gone, and if any of what we had is contagious…" Carol said.

Alice shook her head.

"It's not contagious. He who consumed the mold, got the crud. As for the fever, I imagine it's gone, but I can take your temperature to find out," Alice said.

"Good," Carol said. "It's just that Daryl and I…" she glanced around and realized that no one there would freak out or anything, though Hershel might not exactly think their wedding was as official as it could be, "got married…and I sort of…well I don't want Daryl to get sick."

Carol realized she was blushing and there was nothing that she could do about it. For some reason she wouldn't have minded saying anything in front of Alice or Melodye, but talking about her honeymoon in front of Hershel brought the blood to her cheeks. Her mortification was apparently very obvious because Hershel chuckled.

"Carol Ann," Hershel said, "you're about as red as a Christmas ornament right now."

Alice cackled too, apparently feeling better about the butcher job that she did to her hair.

"Are you asking me if you can have sex with Daryl now that you're married?" Alice asked. "The answer is yes, and no he's not going to be sick."

Carol didn't consider herself one to be too easily embarrassed, but that wasn't the truth at the moment. She was glad that Daryl wasn't there because she was sure that he wouldn't be able to take it.

"Honey there's no reason to look so upset," Hershel said after a moment. "I, for one, kind of figured out what was going on…and it was even before you turned up to tell me you were expecting. There's nothing wrong with having a healthy relationship with your husband. And congratulations, by the way, on deciding to get married."

Carol nodded, trying to come down from her embarrassment.

"So you want a honeymoon? Am I right?" Alice asked.

Carol shrugged. She'd eaten about all she was going to eat, but she liked having the bowl of oatmeal in front of her to keep picking at it. It gave her an excuse not to meet the eyes of any of the people that were staring at her right now.

"Honeymoons just happen to be our specialty here at Le Prison Travel Agency," Alice said. Carol shot her a look. "Melodye, what packages do we have available for the young couple hoping to celebrate their nuptials in style?"

Carol couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

"Well, it depends on how much they're looking to spend," Melodye said.

"Oh, Mel! Honeymoons are a once in a lifetime experience, and I hear they were thrifty with the wedding, and they don't have to sink tons of money into contraceptives, so all the money goes into the honeymoon. Spare no expense." Alice said.

"You're being an ass," Carol said, giggling at Alice.

"I'm not! Now we're going to do this thing right! You just book your trip and leave the rest to us," Alice said.

Hershel pulled himself up and hobbled away from the table, chuckling.

"Women, babies, honeymoons…it's time for an old man like me to go for a walk," he said. "I don't think I can handle all of this, but you ladies have fun. Alice, if you think of anything else, just put it on the list for Glenn and Maggie when they're ready to go back out."

Hershel disappeared and Carol realized she was at the hands of Alice and Melodye.

"What about the library?" Melodye asked.

Alice shook her head.

"Beautiful location, but the dust mites are ridiculous and as this one's part time physician I have to say no. You don't want them run out of their honeymoon because of nosebleeds," Alice said. "It just isn't romantic to choke on your own blood."

Carol shuddered.

"I agree," she said.

"Guard tower doesn't offer much privacy," Alice said, turning the pen around in her hands.

"What about the extra office over in D block?" Melodye asked.

Alice smiled at Carol.

"You, my dear, are onto something," Alice said. "Now of course the deluxe package, which is the only one we're offering at this time, comes with accommodations and breakfast and dinner will be provided by room service."

Alice sat daydreaming a minute and then her face lit up. Carol wasn't sure she was entirely comfortable with the expression that covered it.

"And there's also a special little travel gift provided, but I have to talk to our partner about that one," Alice said.

"Our partner?" Melodye asked.

Carol almost laughed at the face that Alice made at her.

"Yes, our partner that we're in business with that you don't know about yet," Alice said.

Melodye nodded and turned her attention to Judith for a moment who was attempting to pull her hair out.

"Oh that partner," Melodye said. "Yes, we'll have to talk to them…"

"You two don't have to do this," Carol said. "Daryl and I will be just fine in our cell."

"Boo on you, then," Alice said. "No one goes on their honeymoon in a prison cell unless they're doing life. You're going on our magical trip of love and that's all the hell there is to it."

Carol laughed.

"I didn't think you'd be into weddings and things," she said.

"Alice hates weddings," Melodye said. "Honeymoons she likes."

"Anybody in their right mind knows the honeymoon is the real reason people have weddings," Alice said. "And even then I don't get why you don't just elope."

Carol leaned her head on her arm, watching the two of them bicker back and forth for a few minutes.

"Did you two ever get married?" She asked.

"Ha!" Alice said. "In Georgia?"

Carol nodded her understanding.

"You know," she said, "you could get married now. It's not like any of the old rules seem to apply anymore."

"Eh," Melodye said, "we've been together so long that I don't know what it would really matter anymore."

"Could be fun," Alice said. "You could have your dream wedding…you know…invite all the Walkers you wanted to watch the ceremony. We could do our own honeymoon."

"You know everyone here would go," Carol said, "or you could elope, that's essentially what Daryl and I did."

"How about that," Alice said, "gay marriage is finally legal in Georgia and it only took the end of the frickin' world! If the dead weren't walking before, they would be now!"

Carol laughed at her.

"Ok, seriously," Alice said. "You said you'd fix my hair, so you need to do that. Then Mel and I are going to get to work planning a honeymoon. That means you have the rest of the day to shave and pluck and do whatever the hell else it is that you want to do before you leave on your trip tonight."

"Tonight?" Carol asked. She hadn't really thought about this being some kind of official honeymoon. She felt silly because she got nervous suddenly. Then she remembered that they were only going to be spending the night in some other room in the prison, but it still felt like a big deal.

Carol wondered how Daryl would react to the whole idea. She hoped he'd be excited enough by the idea of sex in a new location that none of the details would bother him.

"Tonight," Alice said. "I've got to talk to our business partner, but I'll be bringing you a little something, so let me know when you're heading down to the showers."

Carol got up, smiling at both of the women.

"OK, tonight it is, then," she said. "Well, Alice, let's go see if I can't get you fixed up then so you can get to work. If I'm going to shave it's going to take me a while. Razors are pretty dull around here."

"There are new ones down in the storage area," Alice said. She winked at Carol. "I'll be sure that one of those goes into the bag I bring you."

Carol was excited now, and oddly enough the thought of a new razor made things even more exciting. She did the best she could to shave with the one that she had, but it just didn't quite do the trick anymore. She didn't know how Daryl would feel if he realized that she actually had the potential to have less hair than a bear, given the right circumstances.

She tried to hide her excitement, realizing that it was probably ridiculous to feel the way that she did over this false honeymoon, but it was difficult to keep it under wraps when Alice seemed so excited about it and she was simply one of the people that would be setting it up.

"You know," Carol said, following Alice to her cell to get her scissors, "it seems kind of odd to think of someone else taking care of this."

"Everyone deserves a little something special sometimes," Alice said. "It'll be fun for us to do and I'm sure it'll be fun for you two." She winked at Carol and skipped ahead a bit, dipping into the cell she shared with Melodye and waiting for Carol to catch up.

Somewhere in the prison, Daryl was negotiating the freedom of the new people and was completely unaware that he was going to be swept away that night to the nicest honeymoon that the prison could provide.


	53. Chapter 53

**AN: Well, it's a little long, but I hope you'll forgive me for that.**

**I'm not the same caliber smut queen as some of my fellow writers on here…I'm much more the fluffy variety…but I hope I did the honeymoon justice enough that you won't be too disappointed. I tried to make it as good as I could for you. **

**I hope you enjoy! **

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Daryl wasn't really sure what was going on. He and Rick had gone to talk with the remaining four people to the new group they'd brought in, and they'd allowed them freedom into the prison, though the two men decided to stay in D block while the women wanted to move to C to be closer to the larger group. After he'd left there, he'd been outside, minding his own business, and smoking his cigarette when he'd been overtaken by Maggie who seemed a little too enthusiastic for a dull and somewhat cloudy day like the one they were having. She'd commanded that he stay out of the way until she found him and told him to go take a shower, but he was forbidden to near the bathroom or back to his cell until further notice.

He'd accepted, not really understanding what was happening, but not really caring either. He'd taken his crossbow and decided to go hunting, promising to stay in the area so that someone could find him easily enough when Maggie thought it appropriate for him to be clean.

Just beyond the fences, hunting, or at least pretending to hunt since much of the game was already in hiding because of the weather, Daryl felt relaxed. Things were a lot more complicated inside the fences right now than they were just in the woods.

Daryl hadn't seen Carol since she'd flown out of the cell that morning after demanding that he talk to Rick. He was sure that everything was fine with her, otherwise he would have heard something, but she had a way of vanishing sometimes, even a space so confined.

Daryl lit a cigarette and leaned back against a tree. All he could see around him was one Walker, and the thing hadn't even smelled him yet. He would normally go after it and kill it, but for the moment he decided he'd just keep an eye on it and wait for the nasty asshole to come sauntering over.

Realistically he wasn't hunting. He wasn't going to bring back a single thing, and he was fine with that. Maggie wanted him to disappear for some reason, and so he had disappeared. He was close enough to the fence line, just inside the wooded area, that he could easily see Tyreese walking the fences and clearing out Walkers with what looked to be a large pipe. Normally he did his rounds with Michonne, but the woman wasn't anywhere to be seen. Daryl figured she'd been pretty sick when the mold came through because she hadn't graced the prison with her presence since then.

Daryl stayed, leaning against his tree, glancing back and forth between the prison yard and his drooling dead companion, thankful for a moment for the escape.

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Carol peeked around the shower curtain at her audience. Maggie sat on the soggy shower benches with her feet drawn up, hugging her knees. Melodye leaned against the concrete wall and Alice sat tentatively perched on one of the sinks.

"You're all just going to stare at me?" She asked.

She had shaved, and even when she thought she was done shaving they'd demanded she hadn't been in the shower long enough so she'd shaved again. She was pretty sure that there were Olympic swimmers who had never been so hairless in their lifetimes. And now she was dressed in one of the apparently many sets of lingerie that Alice and Melodye had talked Maggie into letting her try out for the night.

"They're my clothes," Maggie said. "I stole them so I get to see them."

"I picked out the ones I thought were best," Melodye offered.

"And I just likes ta see the ladies in their underbritches," Alice drawled out in a fake accent. "Besides, that's the real reason I became a doctor. It was all so I could tell pretty women to take off their clothes without them throwing around nasty little words like 'restraining order'. So get out here and shake it for us, hot stuff!"

Carol realized she wasn't going to get out of this. She'd argued every reason she could think of not to come out of the shower and they'd shot every single reason down. They expected a fashion show, and she wasn't used to that sort of thing. She'd never even worn anything remotely like the lingerie they'd brought. Ed would have killed her just for thinking about it.

"It doesn't look good," Carol called from behind the curtain.

"We're going to judge that," Melodye said.

"I'm serious," Carol said. "I don't think this was meant to be worn when you're pregnant."

"Carol, as proud of it as you are, that baby bump is barely noticeable," Alice said. "You should have thought of that shit before you brought a baby on a honeymoon. Now we want to see some sexy, get the hell out here before I come in after you."

"She'll do it," Melodye called. "I swear she will."

Carol sighed. She wasn't getting out of this. She pulled the shower curtain back, covered her face with her hands and stepped forward. After the initial wave of hoots and whistles, she peeked through her hands.

"Turn!" Alice commanded.

"What?" Carol asked.

"Turn the fuck around," Alice said, illustrating a turning motion with her hand. "We want to see the whole package."

Carol turned awkwardly around. She wanted to cover herself, but she really wasn't sure what felt most exposed.

"Mine next," Alice said.

Apparently each of them had picked out what they thought was best from the pile. The one that Carol was currently on display in was Maggie's favorite. It was essentially a lace bikini in Carol's opinion. It was mint green and about the most uncomfortable thing that Carol had ever worn, and that was only partially owing to the fact that she'd have probably only felt slightly more exposed if she were naked.

Maggie got up from her spot, dug in a bag and came up with another number. She crossed over, handing it Carol and motioning for her to go back in her stall. Carol took it, sighing.

"You can pass me that one when you've got it off," Maggie said. "We'll make a decision when we're done."

Carol was out of the thing in a matter of minutes. It wasn't like there was much there to take off. She passed it through the curtain and examined the one that Alice had apparently picked out. It was a one piece number that was heavy black lace. Up both sides it was laced up with pink ribbon that tied at the bottom with bows.

"And don't you dare tell me that shit doesn't fit," Alice called suddenly. "Those ribbons aren't just for decoration, you can let it out a little to give the bean some breathing room."

Carol felt like the woman could read her mind. She slipped into the thing, feeling ridiculous. She loosened the sides and did her best to get the bows at the bottom to tie again.

"I don't want to come out in this one," she said. It covered far more than what Maggie had chosen, but for whatever reason she felt even more ridiculous in this one than she had the first.

"You have to," Maggie said. "That's the deal."

Carol sighed and pulled the curtain open. She walked out, standing there, feeling the heat rising in her face.

"See, that one's nice," Alice said. "It's not slutty. It's sexy and it's feminine."

"I think mine was better," Maggie offered.

"You might have," Alice said, "but you wouldn't take it off with your teeth so you wouldn't be thinking about things clearly."

Melodye smacked Alice and Carol laughed.

"I like that one better too, actually," Melodye said. "You look more comfortable in it. Are you?"

"No," Carol said. "I'm not comfortable in either of them."

"Do a little dance for us," Alice said. "You know, just a little shaky shaky…"

Melodye smacked her again and she slid off the sink, laughing.

"She's giving you hell because she wouldn't do that shit either," Melodye said.

"I'm lucky," Alice said. "Mel likes me for my stellar personality. She liked me back when I had pimples, braces, and no boobs at all…" She walked over and circled around Carol. "Seriously, though, this looks good." She pushed Carol's shoulder a little and Carol froze, unsure of what she was supposed to do. Alice laughed at her. "Are you this stiff all the time or is it just the lingerie?"

"I'm not used to this," Carol said.

"Try the babydoll, then," Melodye said. "It's a little looser and it might make you more comfortable."

"Mine has accessories, though," Alice said. "Extra treat for that one time effect."

"But if she won't inhale or exhale while she's wearing it then it's not going to work anyway," Melodye said. "We're going for sexy yet…alive."

"OK," Maggie said, pulling another out of the bag. "Try this one on, last one."

Carol took the garment reluctantly and slipped back into the stall. She passed the one she was wearing out to Maggie and looked at the new torture device. It wasn't as bad. It still wasn't something she really wanted to put on, but it did look a little more inviting than the other two. It was two pieces. She stepped into the underwear first. They were dark blue and silky instead of being the uncomfortable lace. She slipped the top of the ensemble off. It was black lace and the same dark blue silk.

"Better?" Melodye called.

"A little bit," Carol responded. She had no idea what Daryl's reaction to any of these things might be. He was probably going to think she looked totally ridiculous and he'd be right. It was fine that Maggie had them, they were made for people like her. Carol's cheeks ran hot again. She could almost hear Ed's voice taunting her. It was like putting a fresh coat of paint on a broken down car. It just didn't make any sense to be doing this.

"Are you coming out?" Maggie called after a minute.

Carol shook her head. She tried to hold back the tears that wanted to come out. Suddenly she started to feel claustrophobic about the tiny bathroom stall, but she didn't want to come out of it either.

"Hey," Melodye called. "Are you alright in there?"

Carol waited, trying to get control of herself.

"I changed my mind," Carol said. "I'm not doing this."

"Carol," Melodye called back, "come on out. We won't tease you. I promise. We'll just pick the one that's best and you don't have to try anymore on."

Carol pulled the curtain open and came out wiping at her eyes.

"OK," she said, "I'm done now."

Melodye came over, wrapping her arms around her.

"Actually, I think you are done," Maggie said. "I like that one the best."

"Me too, actually," Alice said.

"Alright," Melodye said. "You two losers get out of here. We're going to finish up here. You two get the rest of everything set up. I think Carol and I may need to have a little chat."

Carol didn't respond, but she did notice that Alice and Maggie gathered everything up and slipped out of the bathroom leaving her with Melodye.

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Daryl didn't know what to expect when Maggie told him to shower and get dressed up for his honeymoon. Carol was either missing or they had her hid somewhere because he hadn't seen her anywhere. He wasn't exactly sure what Maggie meant by get dressed up. He didn't get dressed up…ever…and he didn't know what he was supposed to wear to honeymoon. As far as he knew all that was supposed to mean was the he was going to spend the night with Carol, but she wasn't in the cell.

Finally he'd showered and put on clean clothes and presented himself outside the cell where Maggie was waiting with Glenn nearby. Glenn was smirking and Daryl was sure the kid knew something that he didn't know.

"What's goin' on anyway?" Daryl asked.

"Are you ready?" Maggie asked him.

"For what?" Daryl asked. "Ya ain't told me what the hell I'm s'posed ta be ready for."

"Your honeymoon," Maggie responded, grinning.

Daryl shot a look at Glenn who was grinning at him. He narrowed his eyes at him.

"Fuck, I guess so," Daryl said. "Where's Carol? Ain't she s'posed ta be with me?"

"She's already there, silly," Maggie said. "She got the VIP treatment already. You're the slowpoke."

Daryl huffed and rolled his eyes. Maggie started through the prison and he followed behind her. He kept shooting looks over his shoulder at Glenn who was following him. He wasn't sure if they were supposed to have an audience or what.

Maggie led him through D block, all the way to some offices they'd cleared out. He saw Alice and Melodye slip out of one of the offices.

"All set?" Maggie asked them.

"All set," Melodye said.

"Then this is where we leave you," Maggie said. "Go right through that door."

Daryl looked at all of them. Everyone was grinning. He was beginning to feel like this was some kind of really bad trick and he was about to fall for it.

"Go on, get in there," Melodye urged. "We'll see you two in the morning."

Melodye started forward, then, urging everyone else to go with her, leaving Daryl standing there, watching them all walking off. The women were giggling and Glenn was just sauntering behind them like he was just along for the ride.

Daryl turned and faced the door to the office. It looked mostly dark inside and he couldn't imagine that Carol was just sitting in there waiting on him, but apparently she was. He suddenly got nervous.

He sighed, though, and started toward the door. If she was in there alone, she'd probably get anxious if he didn't go in soon. When he opened the door, he was surprised. All the desks and things that had been in the room were shoved against the far wall and the room was empty except for two mattresses stacked on top of one another and one desk that had food and candles on it.

Carol was sitting across the room, far outside of the candlelight, and the only reason Daryl even knew she was there was because he was expecting her to be there.

"What the hell is all this?" He asked.

"Alice and Mel set it up," Carol said. "It's our honeymoon."

Daryl walked into the room and closed the door. Carol didn't move and he wasn't really sure what he was supposed to be doing.

"Ya stayin' over there?" He asked. "Or am I s'posed ta come over there too?"

Carol got up from the chair she was in, but she hesitated a few minutes.

"It's too damn dark in here," Daryl said. He started to look around for more candles or a lantern or something. He felt like he could hardly see a thing and it was bothering him.

"It's supposed to be dark," Carol said. "It makes it more romantic."

"How fuckin' romantic is it ta feel like ya blind?" Daryl asked. "I can't even see ya."

"You'll see me," Carol said. "But before you do, you have to promise that you're not going to laugh."

Daryl was confused. He wasn't really sure what was happening that he was supposed to be laughing.

"Why am I gonna laugh?" He asked.

"Sit down," Carol said. Daryl looked around, but most of the chairs were piled up.

"There's a chair in that corner over there," Carol said. "Drag it over and sit down."

Daryl sighed to himself. He didn't understand a damn thing about all this, but if it made her happy, he'd drag the chair over and sit. He got close enough to the table so that he could at least see his own surroundings in the flickering candlelight.

"You're not going to laugh?" Carol asked again.

"I don't think so," Daryl said, "unless ya gonna do somethin' that's gonna make me laugh…"

Carol came around the back of the table then and started toward him. As she got closer, Daryl couldn't believe what he saw. He wasn't exactly sure why he'd laugh, but he almost couldn't breathe. He tried to take in everything about her in the candlelight.

She was wearing a silky type of top that dipped down and hugged her breasts, pushing them up, and then from right in the middle of her breasts there was a split that opened down the rest of the top. She wasn't wearing anything else except for a pair of panties that were made out of the same dark material. Daryl's eyes trailed all the way down her to the floor where she was standing, barefoot.

Daryl wasn't sure what he was supposed to say or do, but she stepped forward, almost straddling one of his legs. He was surprised when he looked up and his eyes met hers. She looked almost like she was scared of him or like she was on the verge of breaking into tears and he had no idea why she would cry.

"What's wrong with ya?" He asked, noticing her chin start to quiver, a telltale sign that she would cry soon enough if whatever was wrong wasn't fixed quickly.

"Is it terrible?" She asked.

"Is what terrible?" Daryl asked.

"This," Carol said. "They made me wear it."

Daryl was sure now that he didn't understand Carol at all.

"I like it," he said. He suddenly wondered, though, if he was supposed to like it. She didn't look like she liked it very much. "Ya don't like it?"

Carol walked away from him then, pacing around the table. Daryl felt like there was a right answer to this, but he didn't feel like he knew it. He wished he had that damn notebook with him to see if there might be some kind of letter about this kind of thing in there.

"It's ridiculous," Carol said. "I'm too old to be wearing this…and I'm too fat." She went back to the chair in the dark corner that she'd been sitting in and Daryl lost sight of her in the darkness. He picked up one of the candles and carried it with him, at least hoping to shine some light on that corner of the room. He crossed over there and rested the candle on the edge of the table so that it least lit the corner up a little.

"Ain't ridiculous," he said. "An' ya ain't too damn old ta be wearin' it an' ya ain't fat," Daryl said. "I think ya look real pretty in it." He reached his hands out and took her hands that were resting in her lap. He pulled her up and she wrapped her arms around him.

"You don't have to say that, Daryl," she said, resting her face against his chest. He couldn't understand why it was that she apparently couldn't see what he saw, but it was clear that she didn't. He wanted her too, though. "Come here," he said, pulling away from her and picking the candle up. He went around the table and put the candle back where it was before.

"What is it?" She asked, not moving from her spot in the dark again.

"Come here," Daryl said with a little more force behind his words than before. She reluctantly came toward him and he put his hand out, pushing against her back a little. "Sit down," he said, pointing toward the bed that they'd made up. Carol sighed and sat down. He came over and sat down next to her. He took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. He leaned in, kissing her. She kissed him back. When they pulled apart, he kissed her neck, placing soft kisses on her collarbone and trailing down to the swell of her breasts, just above where the garment that seemed to bother her so much rested. He pulled back a moment, taking a second to take in what she looked like in the garment. She didn't like it, though, and he wasn't going to make her keep it on if it made her uncomfortable. "Help me get this off," he said, tugging at hit.

Carol reached down and caught the bottom of the silky top, pulling it over her head. Her breasts spilled free from it and Daryl pushed her back a little on the mattress. He dipped his head, twirling his tongue in a circle around her nipple, and then he sucked her nipple. She moaned and pulled away from him a little. He sat back and looked at her. The expression she was wearing earlier was gone.

"Ya feelin' better?" He asked.

Carol nodded her head. He smiled. She had the sleepy look on her face that she got when she wanted to have sex with him, and he was happy to see it instead of the worried look she'd been wearing. Daryl leaned down, kissing her, and let his hands slide down her sides. He laughed into her mouth a little and broke loose from the kiss when she jerked at his hands trailing over a particularly ticklish spot just below her ribcage…the same spot the spider web of scars decorated.

"Why didn't'cha wanna wear the clothes?" Daryl asked, pinching the fabric of the panties that she was still wearing and rubbing it between his fingertips. She shivered a little at the touch combined with the chill in the room.

Carol sighed and reached up to him, trailing her fingers lazily around his chest and over the muscles of his arms.

"Those kinds of things," she said, "are made for younger women…pretty women…the kind of women that _should_ be wearing them."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her.

"Damn it, woman, those kinds a' things are made for women ta look sexy, an' ya looked sexy in it…ya look sexy now too," Daryl said, dipping his head again and kissing her neck, massaging her breasts in his hands. He wanted her, but he felt like this was supposed to be something special, something _different_, and right now not much was different except the fact that they were in some office in another part of the prison except their own bed. Daryl looked around the room in what he could see of the candlelight and he got an idea. "Ain't this s'posed ta be like the sexiest night we get together?" He asked.

Carol leaned up on her elbows then, looking at him like she didn't know how to answer him.

"It's technically supposed to be the first night we have sex together at all," Carol said. Daryl snickered.

"I reckon we fucked that one up," he said. Carol laughed at him.

"Most women aren't supposed to be pregnant on their honeymoons, so you're right, Daryl. We did it a little wrong," she said.

"Ain't wrong," Daryl said finally. "Just different. So we gonna do somethin' different."

Daryl had never done anything like this, but he wanted to do it and he knew other people did it. Carol looked at him like she was unsure, and he knew he was going to have to do something about the way she was looking at him or he was going to lose his nerve. He grabbed the end of one of the old blankets that was piled on the mattress and started tugging at it, until it finally ripped in his hands.

"What are you doing?" Carol asked.

"Shush, woman," Daryl said. "Ya said it was my honeymoon, didn't'cha?"

"Well, yeah…" Carol responded, watching him.

Daryl picked up the ripped part of the blanket and covered Carol's eyes with it. He tried to tie it around her, but she started to fight with him a little.

"Stop fightin' me, damn it," Daryl said. "I ain't gon' hurt ya."

"What are you doing?" She repeated, but she did stop fighting.

Daryl smiled. Once her eyes were covered it was a lot easier to ignore whatever facial expression she was making. It also made him feel better because she wasn't judging him quietly. He got up and her hands went out, touching him on the legs. His response was simply to toe off his shoes and shimmy out of his pants, realizing how cold it was in the office. He shivered a little.

"Ya cold?" He asked. Carol nodded, her hand resting against his leg.

"Well I'm 'bout ta warm ya up, but don't'cha take that damn thing off or I'm gonna fix ya hands too," he said.

Daryl left then and Carol started with a wave of questions from the mattress.

"Just sit there an' wait," Daryl said. "I ain't gone nowhere."

He moved the candles off of the table and put them to the side on the floor. If his plan worked out, he figured they might tip them over and he didn't exactly want to be naked and running from a fire. He came back and took Carol's hand, nearly lifting her off the mattress. She was reluctant at first, but finally she went with him. He wrapped his arm around her, trying to make her feel safe and let her know that she wasn't going to fall over anything. He wasn't going to let her get hurt, that wasn't his intention at all. He walked her over to the table and put one hand on one side of the table and one hand on the other. She turned like she was going to look at him over her shoulder and then sighed.

"What are you doing?" She repeated. Daryl snickered.

"Ya know, if ya don't stop askin' that I'm gonna do somethin' that's gonna earn that question," Daryl said. He kissed the back of her neck and her shoulder, letting his tongue draw a line between the two. She gasped a little and moved back against him. He reached out and put his hand over hers, pressing her fingers to the edge of the table again. Then he ran his arms under hers and squeezed her breasts, kissing the back of her neck again. He ran his hands down her, slipping one inside the panties she was wearing and stopping to rub at the nub that always seemed to get her attention and she gasped again, bucking into his hand.

"Ya 'bout ain't got no hair," Daryl said, smiling against her shoulder and continuing to rub her. She threw her head back, her face next to his, and he kissed the side of it.

"Their idea," she panted out.

"I like their damn ideas," Daryl said. He brought his hands around and slid the panties down. She stepped out of them. Then he slipped a hand down to her core, this time pushing one of his fingers inside of her and teasing her. She spread her legs, giving him more access. That was exactly what he was hoping would happen. "Spread ya legs some more," he said. She did, a little, and he slipped two fingers inside her, his other hand around her waist, holding her as she bucked into him. "Ya think ya can do this?" He asked, his hand going to ready himself now.

"Mmm hmmm…" she moaned out. Daryl entered her and for a moment they both adjusted themselves. Finally, he set the pace for both of them, his hands going around to pinch at her nipples. "Harder…" Carol said, bucking herself into him.

Daryl was caught off guard for a moment.

"What?" He asked, moving his hands down to her hips to jerk her harder against him. She made a mewling sound that he hadn't heard before and he almost lost his concentration for a second.

"Harder!" She repeated.

Daryl tried to comply with her wishes, surprised that she was spurring him on the way that she was. When she finally came he caught her hard around the hips, burying his fingers into her as he pulled her back the last few times and then he let himself join her. Exhausted, she leaned against the table and he leaned against her, only realizing after he came down from his high that he was crushing her into the old table. He backed off, still panting, but she didn't move for a moment longer.

"Ya OK?" He asked when he could finally speak. She was somewhat lying on the table, still gripping the edges.

"Mmm hmm," she moaned. She was panting as hard as he had been. "My knees are a little shaky," she said, snickering.

Daryl came over and pulled her up off the table, pulling her against him and kissing and sucking at her neck. She turned around, feeling him as she went and almost collapsed into him, moaning and nuzzling his chest with her face. He felt a swell of pride.

"Got'cha good, huh?" He asked, trying not to laugh.

"Sure did," she said.

Daryl guided her back to the mattress, easing her down. He left the blindfold on, deciding for the moment that he liked it. It gave her a confidence that she hadn't had since the whole escapade with the Governor.

Daryl lie next to her and put his head to her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair.

"Thank you," she said.

"Ain't no problem," Daryl said, grinning. She smiled at him.

"Can I take this off now?" She asked.

"No," Daryl said. "They got more stuff for us, an' I reckon ya play nicer when ya wearin' that thing."

Carol huffed at him, but he leaned up and nipped at her neck. She wasn't mad, not really. Daryl got up. He was hungry, but the food that was there wasn't exactly a nice steak dinner, which was what he'd really like to eat. They'd given them a large bowl of canned peaches and a bottle of chocolate syrup.

"We got dessert," he said, "but we ain't got no dinner."

In response he heard Carol's stomach growl. Her hand immediately went to it like she was embarrassed by the noise.

"Damn girl! That mean ya hungry?" Daryl said, picking up what they did have and making his way back to the mattress.

"I think the idea was that we'd eat before we came in here," Carol said. "I forgot about it."

"Yeah, well, I didn't know what the hell was goin' on," Daryl said, "but I'll sacrifice dinner for the night. Open ya mouth."

Carol opened her mouth and Daryl slipped one of the peach slices into it. She closed her lips around it, sucking the juice from his fingertips.

She groaned as she chewed the peach slice. Daryl smiled at her. He reasoned there was at least one can, if not two, of peach slices there. He reasoned, though, that he could go without a meal if he had to, but he remembered that Alice called the baby a parasite, and he figured Carol could split the peaches with the baby, even if it wasn't much of a meal. She seemed to like them at least. He took another slice and rubbed it across her lips and she opened her mouth, accepting it. He licked the sweet juice that ran down her chin.

Daryl opened the chocolate and squirted some of the sweet syrup on his tongue, he pulled her mouth to him in a kiss and flavors combined as their tongues battled. Carol moaned into his mouth and squirmed a little under where he was leaned against her.

"I don't think that's what they had in mind for the chocolate," she said, but it's good.

"What'cha reckon they had in mind for it?" Daryl asked, slipping another peach slice in her mouth. After she swallowed, she continued speaking.

"I think they thought we might…well…lick it off of each other," she said. Daryl smiled. He liked the idea. Without waiting for more, he offered her another piece of the peaches and squirted some of the chocolate on her nipples, sucking and licking it off of one and then the other. She moaned and bucked her hips in response.

"Gettin' all lathered up over some food, ain't'cha?" Daryl said, teasing and going to the other nipple.

"What about you?" She asked.

"What about me?" Daryl responded. He dribbled the chocolate on her stomach and licked and sucked it off. She responded with another moan and Daryl felt himself going hard again.

"If you let me take this off, I could lick it off of you," Carol said.

Daryl squirted the chocolate on the nub, lapping it off enthusiastically and holding her hips so that she couldn't involuntarily wiggle away from him. He grinned, realizing that she was gripping the sides of the mattress now.

"My honeymoon…my chocolate," Daryl said. Daryl went back to lapping at her and she bucked at him, crying out. He knew she'd come soon if he continued, and he wanted to be back inside her again. He moved, positioning himself. He didn't give her any warning as to what he was doing, but when he buried himself inside of her, she wrapped her legs around him and her hands dug deeper into the mattress. Daryl thrust a few times and then shifted a little, freeing one of his arms enough to slip the blindfold off her face. Her eyes were closed as he resettled his weight and thrust again. "Ain't gonna last," he said. "Open ya eyes, I wanna see ya."

Carol opened her eyes and kept them locked on him until she came. Daryl followed right after her. She was still panting when he rolled to the side and offered her another slice of the peaches.

"I can feed myself," she panted out.

"Ya could," Daryl said, kissing her jaw and then letting his tongue trail over to lick at the sticky sweetness on her chin, "but I ain't lettin' ya."

She turned her head, chewing a little, and smiled at him.

"This alright for a honeymoon?" He asked.

"I think it's about the best we could have," Carol said. Daryl leaned in and kissed her. She let him feed her another slice of the peach and she nuzzled into him for a minute as she chewed it, tangling her fingers with his. "I'm sticky now," she said, "from the chocolate."

Daryl grinned at her.

"We can't have that shit," Daryl said. "Dixons are a lotta things, but they don't run around sticky, an' ya a Dixon now."

Carol smiled.

"It's too late, I'm already sticky," she said.

"I reckon I'm just gonna have ta lick ya clean then," Daryl said. He leaned up and poured more of the chocolate onto her and she laughed at him.

"Well now that's going to take a while," she teased.

"Got all damn night," Daryl said.

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**AN: There you go, I hope you enjoyed! Show me some love if you did! **


	54. Chapter 54

**AN: Thank you all for your reviews on the honeymoon chapter. It means so much to hear from you! **

**OK, so we have a little time jump here as we're advancing a little more into the story. Don't worry, though, it's not a major time jump and there will be plenty more to come! **

**I hope you enjoy! **

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Daryl wasn't really sure, in the weeks after the honeymoon, how his life was supposed to change, but married life to him was pretty much what life had been like before they'd married. He shared his cell with Carol, and he shared all the free time that he had with her, and the rest of the time they spent doing the numerous tasks that needed to be done around the prison.

The fences were fortified. They were almost prepared, stock wise, for the winter and the dropping temperatures were already forcing them to bundle up for any outdoor activities. The game was gone, hiding out until spring, and Daryl was done with hunting for the season.

Today they were preparing for a run, what would likely be one of their last, and Daryl was hanging around near one of the fences finishing a cigarette and watching everyone work out who would be going. He figured that Michonne would go. She'd been adamant since the whole fiasco with the mold that she got out of the prison as often as possible. He didn't know, though, who else would be up for the trip. As far as he knew, the list of supplies that they still had left to get was relatively short.

As Daryl snubbed out his cigarette, he watched as Glenn headed toward the truck, Michonne only feet behind him and both of them put their weapons in the back. Maggie came after them, and Daryl assumed that it was safe to join them and get on the road. The sooner they left, the sooner they'd be back.

As Daryl reached the truck, Maggie was tossing a few of the empty bags and plastic boxes into the back and she crawled in with Michonne. Carol came out, zipping up her coat and walked past Daryl, crawling into the back of the truck.

"Where ya think ya goin'?" Daryl asked, leaning against the back of the open truck.

"Going on the run," Carol said. "We're going to stop at a baby store and load up on supplies," she said. "We need to get prepared."

"No…" Daryl said, "we gonna go get supplies, but you ain't goin' nowhere."

"Daryl!" Carol protested. "It's a small supply run, we're not even going to be gone long, and we need baby things. Judith needs stuff and I need to start preparing for the baby."

"Exactly, Carol, the baby that ya ain't takin' outside these damn fences," Daryl said. "Now either ya figure out a way ta leave the kid here or ya crawl ya happy ass outta that truck!"

Carol glared at him and shifted her weight, hunkering down further in the back of the truck. Daryl felt his blood boil a little. She was going to be defiant. Of all the damn times, now in front of everyone Carol was going to put on a show. She'd had her little moments, here and there, and he kept excusing them thanks to Alice's messages that kept showing up in that blue notebook buried in his clothing drawer where Alice dropped it off whenever she had something to convey to him, but he didn't want Carol going on this run.

"If ya need shit then ya tell Maggie or ya tell Michonne," Daryl said again. "I ain't takin' ya with us an' this truck ain't movin' 'til ya get ya ass out."

"Things can happen here just as easily as they could on a run," Carol argued back. "I was here when the Governor came. I've been here when Walkers have attacked us. Something is just as likely to happen here as it is to happen out there picking up baby things."

"If she wants to go, I'll stay with her," Michonne offered.

"No," Daryl said, shaking his head. "That's my kid an' ya ain't goin' out there," Daryl said. "Outta the truck now or I'm draggin' ya out."

Daryl meant the threat as an empty threat. He had no real intent of having to drag Carol out of the back of the truck. He figured that he would threaten the action and she would sigh and give in. Maybe she'd pout or something, but by the time they got back from the run she'd be in their cell and feeling better. She didn't move, though, she just set her jaw and stared at him.

"If that's how it has to be…" she said.

Daryl sighed. He knew that if he got into the truck he'd never get her over his shoulders without at least severely injuring one of them. Finally, he reached in the truck, around Michonne and grabbed Carol's calf, even as she kicked at him with the other. He tugged on her, trying to get to her pants leg to haul her out of there by her pants, and hoping that he didn't embarrass her by yanking her pants off in front of the whole prison. She kicked at him and he reached the other arm out, grabbing her other calf and pulling her towards him, sliding her alone the bottom of the truck.

He'd thought, perhaps, the action was harmless. He didn't feel like he was really putting much pressure on her legs, he was simply sliding her and her pants were slipping across the metal of the truck.

"Stop it!" Carol commanded, kicking at him again. He laughed a little. She was getting worked up over this whole thing, but soon enough he'd slide her to him and then he could sit her on her feet and send her on her way back inside. "Stop it!" Daryl chuckled a little, he couldn't believe that she was going to act like a kid over this, but apparently she was. He reached up, catching her behind the knee of her left leg and tugged her forward the last little bit, backing up as he pulled to tug her to the side.

It was only then she howled and the look on her face changed entirely.

"Jesus!" Michonne spat suddenly.

Daryl realized, all in an instant, that something had gone terribly wrong with what he had only intended to be a semi-playful removal of his hard headed wife from the back of the truck. He stepped forward, closer to Carol, not sure what was happening. She'd gone, suddenly, as white as a sheet, sitting there on the edge of the truck. Her hand had shot out and her fingers were digging into his arm, but he still didn't know what had happened.

Daryl looked at Maggie and Michonne. Both of them were wide eyed for a moment.

"Don't move," Michonne said.

Daryl stood still. The noises that Carol were making now were something between a sobbing and a choking sound. Daryl watched as Michonne eased around.

"I'm sorry," Daryl stuttered out.

"OK," Michonne said. "You've got to push her back a little. I can't tell if it was a screw or a piece of metal or what it was, but it's lodged in her thigh now…you're going to have to push her back and get her off of it."

Daryl felt Carol's fingers dig into his arms and she sobbed, gasping for air a little around the sobs. He felt sick. He could barely breathe and felt like his chest might collapse. They'd gathered an audience now. Everyone had seen that he'd done this.

"I'm so sorry," Daryl said, not knowing what else to say.

"You need to be sorry later," Michonne said. She's bleeding a lot.

Daryl felt Carol trembling a little. She'd leaned her head forward now and it was resting on his shoulder. He slid his hands down to her waist and stopped a moment. He'd intended to simply lift her up by grabbing her ass before, but now he honestly had no idea where to put his hands. Her left leg hung almost out of the truck, but the right was pushed back some, and now he knew it was because whatever had dug into her had slowed its progression down.

"Tyreese, can you help here?" Michonne called. "I think he's frozen or something."

Tyreese came over, but Daryl didn't want him touching her. He didn't want anyone else's hands on her right now. He wanted to back up in time a few minutes and not insist that she not go on the run. He'd follow her around himself all day just to know that this hadn't happened, and that he hadn't been the one to do it. Even if it wasn't anything at all, even if it wasn't serious, he was never going to forgive himself for this.

He slid his hands down her and tried to get a decent grip on her. He felt the wet warmth on his fingertips and knew it was blood.

"Jesus," he said, knowing Carol's ear was near him, "I'm so damn sorry."

He lifted her a little, pushing her back just a bit and pulling her up. She bit his shoulder hard and howled into him, her arms squeezing around his shoulders.

"You're good," Michonne commanded. "Now go! Get her to Alice!"

Carol's left leg wrapped around Daryl's waist, but he held the right in place with his hand exactly where it had been before. She cried against his neck and he tried not to pay it any attention, rushing as quickly as he could toward the prison. He was afraid, a time or two, that he would drop her and stopped only a second to shift her weight upwards with his right arm, telling himself that he deserved the fact that his muscles were screaming at him.

"Alice!" He yelled as he ran through the prison door, grateful that Carl was holding it open for him. "Where the fuck are you? I need you now!"

Alice came bounding out of some corner of the prison and Daryl stared at her over Carol's shoulder.

"What the fuck happened?" Alice yelled, seeing him there with Carol wrapped around him. He didn't know what it looked like.

"Help!" He yelled. He was almost frantic. His heart was on the verge of exploding and he'd given it permission to do so, but he had to get somewhere to put Carol down first.

"Can you get her to my office?" Alice asked.

Daryl tried to nod, but couldn't. His arms protested that they wouldn't make it that far, but he was determined that they would. He rushed forward, noticing that Carl was apparently set on helping them however he could. The boy stayed a few feet ahead of him opening doors until he finally got her to the office. He put her on the table that Alice had covered with a sheet and she cried out again as soon as he did. He stood there holding her for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds before Alice appeared.

"OK, what the fuck happened because you've left a fucking blood trail all the way here," Alice asked, a little panicked.

Daryl pulled away from Carol a little then and noticed that she was pale. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the face.

"I didn't mean ta do it!" He said.

Alice already had Carol on her side now and she was wrestling with her pants.

"OK, apparently English isn't your first language," Alice said, but help me here.

Daryl hated to touch her. He felt like him touching her had caused this and he didn't know what was happening or how serious it was, but it was all his fault. If he kept touching her, he might make it worse. Alice continued struggling, though, doing her best, and Carol had rested her head on the table, covering her face with her arms. Daryl reacted then, grabbing her pants and maneuvering her enough to get them off.

"Roll her the other way," Alice said, looking briefly at her leg. "Get that other leg up. What the hell happened to her?"

Daryl helped her roll Carol so that Carol was facing away from him. Part of him wanted to go and hold her face and beg her to tell him that she forgave him, and the other part of him didn't want to get anywhere near her for fear of what he might do to her, what he had done already.

"She was threatening to go on the run," Daryl said. "She was in the back of the truck and I pulled her. I was going to slide her off the edge. I was just playin'…somethin' got her."

"Yeah, it got her alright," Alice said. She shoved Daryl out of the way and he didn't mind. She was already working on the wound and he wouldn't blame her if she punched him the face for having done it. He deserved it.

There was a lot of blood, too much in Daryl's opinion. He looked at himself and realized he was stained in it. Glancing at the floor there was some blood trailing into the office. Daryl turned around and walked out of the little office, leaving Alice to do what she had to do. He could hear her talking to Carol, and he could hear Carol crying and the sound almost throbbed in his ears. Melodye rushed by a few minutes later, darting into the office.

Daryl wasn't sure what he should do. He didn't feel like he deserved to stay. He had done this. He'd promised her that he'd never hurt her, and he had. He'd hurt her in front of everyone and he hadn't even meant to. He felt his chest closing up, and he clawed at his neck a little, wishing that he was even wearing anything there tight enough to blame for his trouble breathing. If he could hurt her like this, if he could so carelessly do something so terrible, there was no telling when it might happen again. He could hurt again, and maybe worse. He could hurt the baby. He hadn't meant to do it, but that just meant that he was capable of this without even meaning for it to happen.

Daryl knew he wasn't going to be able to breathe if he didn't get out of the space that he was in. He felt like the prison walls were closing in on him and he had to get out. He ran, almost blindly, back through the prison and made his way out into the yard. The truck was gone, apparently they'd gone on the run. They hadn't waited to see if she was alright…they'd probably wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible. He was capable of hurting her, so he was capable of hurting anyone.

Daryl didn't know where to go, but he needed to go somewhere. He finally took off through the yard and hauled himself up on one of the overturned vehicles they used to get a good view from the lower part of the yard. He didn't know how long he sat there, but he stayed there for a while, just trying to get control of himself and figure out what to do about the situation.

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It was getting late, and Daryl remained on top of his perch. He'd seen the truck return from their run. He'd watched as Carl opened the gates and let the truck pass through. He'd even heard, though it sounded very far away, the sounds of everyone as they unloaded whatever they'd gotten. He didn't intend to come down though. He'd solved none of his problems and he had no idea what to do or say, so it was best that he stay right where he was, and luckily everyone knew it was better to keep their distance.

Or almost everyone…

"A little help here," Daryl heard Alice call. One of her hands flopped around the edge of the truck like a fish out of water. He growled to himself and ignored her. The other one topped the side a few moments later, and he heard her struggling. He hoped she fell of the side and quit trying to climb up. "I'm not a circus performer," she called.

"Get the fuck down, then," Daryl barked. He didn't want to see her. Other than Carol, she was the last person that he wanted to see. She'd probably haul her ass over the side and lecture him about the whole damn thing as if he didn't know how terrible he was for having hurt Carol. He didn't need her to tell him that. He already knew it.

Since he'd been up there he'd heard Merle's voice taunting him nearly the entire time. He couldn't have anything in life because he'd just fuck it up. Anything good he ever had he fucked up, and this was just another situation. He didn't deserve Carol and she didn't deserve to have him around to do stupid shit that would get her hurt and could very well get her killed. He certainly didn't deserve a child and he'd already determined he wasn't going anywhere near the thing. He'd probably fuck up and break its neck the moment he touched it.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me right now? You better crawl your happy redneck ass the fuck over here and get me the rest of the way up or if you ever come down so help me I'll cut your dick off!" Alice called over the side.

Daryl thought to himself that it wouldn't be a terrible thing if she did. His dick had gotten him into a lot of trouble. It had gotten Carol pregnant, and now she was going to have to deal with that on top of knowing that she had let someone like him get her that way.

"Might be a good damn thing," Daryl called back.

"I'm seriously starting to hate you right this minute," Alice called. Daryl sighed. One way or the other he was going to get his nuts handed to him and he might as well get it over with. He deserved it, and nothing she could really say or do would be bad enough for him. He got up and walked across the back of the truck. He reached down, grabbing the two hands that were firmly pressed to the side, and lifted her straight up, hauling her onto the truck, his arms screaming out in protest at the action.

"Fuck you," Daryl spat, when he'd let go of her and she'd dropped to her knees on the side.

"Right back at ya," Alice said.

Daryl made his way back to where he'd been sitting and sat down again. Alice pulled herself to her feet.

"So what? Now you're fucking hiding out here?" She asked, walking around in front of him and pacing back and forth, obstructing his view of the woods beyond the prison.

"You don't know a damn thing, so why don't'cha take ya stupid ass back ta the prison?" Daryl spat.

"Let's see…" Alice said, continuing her pacing and faking a thoughtful action by rubbing at her chin. "What do I know? What do I know?" She stopped dead in front of him then. "I know you've got a nasty fucking temper…I know that your wife has about fifteen stitches in her thigh now, and nobody was there to hold her hand except Mel…I know that you made a big fucking mistake and you didn't mean it…but what I don't know is why you're sitting your sorry ass out here instead of comforting your wife right now."

"I ain't goin' near her," Daryl said. He fished in his pocket and pulled out one of the slightly crushed cigarettes he had and straightened it in his fingers. He lit it.

Alice came over then, and sat nearly in front of him.

"Well that's just fucking lovely," she said. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Why don't'cha get the fuck off my truck?" Daryl spat.

"Why don't you get your head out of your ass?" Alice asked.

"I fuckin' ripped her damn leg open," Daryl said. He couldn't see why the annoying woman was so hell bent and determined not to understand that he knew what he'd done, and he knew he needed to make sure that the shit didn't happen again.

"Yeah, you did," Alice said. "Shit happens. I sewed her damn leg shut. Now what? Now you park your ass out here on this tetanus trap? And what does she do? She lays there with her sewed up damn leg and wonders why the fuck you didn't care enough to hold her fucking hand while I stitched it closed?"

"I didn't mean ta hurt her," Daryl said.

"Got that memo, waitin' for a new one," Alice said.

"I didn't mean ta fuckin' hurt her, an' I still did, can't ya fuckin' figure that shit out?" Daryl asked.

Alice sat, staring at him.

"When we moved into our first apartment," Alice said, "I shot Melodye with a staple gun in the stomach."

"What?" Daryl asked.

Alice nodded.

"Yep. I was being a horse's ass and I was pretending that I was going to shoot her. I never meant to actually shoot the damn thing, but I did. I was pretty damn sure I killed her. The whole damn way to the hospital, in the ambulance, I cried harder than she did because I was pretty fuckin' sure I'd shot that damn staple into some kind of internal organ or something and she was going to die because I was a big old fucking idiot," Alice said.

"It ain't the same," Daryl said. "I could hurt her again, or I could hurt the baby. People like me, we ain't meant ta be 'round people like her."

"You're right," Alice said. "You're abso-fucking-lutely right. People like you…the kind of people that make fucking mistakes…they should never be around the people they accidentally fucking hurt. That shit's bad juju right there. It's a lot better to hurt someone and then run the fuck away from it."

Daryl snubbed out the butt of his cigarette and flicked it over the side of the truck.

"You know, Mel was hella pissed about that staple," Alice said. "She still brings it up. Of course there's also the fucking time I dropped the dresser on her foot and broke two of her toes. That's one of her favorite fucking stories. She used to tell that thing over Christmas dinner damn near every year. One of my favorites, though, was one night when she was drunk and she was walking down the stairs behind me and she fell. Plowed through me, rolled my ass all the way to damn bottom and I broke my wrist. That was an awesome night."

"Ya got a damn point or we fuckin' skippin' down memory lane?" Daryl asked.

"My point is that shit happens. We hurt the people we love sometimes. It doesn't matter that we hurt them, what matters is that we don't do stupid shit like break their fucking hearts. You see, that's the thing. The broken bones, the cuts and scrapes, that shit hurts, but it heals. You break somebody's heart, though, and that shit won't ever be right again," Alice said. "There's not a doctor alive that fix a broken heart."

"I don't wanta hurt her," Daryl said. "I spent my whole life around assholes that hurt everyone they ever touched…"

"And you don't want to be that asshole?" Alice asked.

Daryl didn't want to answer her. He wanted to push her off the truck, that's what he really wanted to do.

"You're being the bigger asshole right now," Alice said. "Man up…find your fucking jewels. Get in there, say you're fucking sorry, and move on. She'll get over this. You'll owe her a little lovey dovey here and a little kissy wissy there for the fuckin' stitches and the tetanus shot, but she'll get the fuck over it. You pull this shit now, though, and you run away like some little piece of shit, and she'll never get over it." She was quiet for a minute, as was Daryl. Finally she started again and Daryl groaned when she opened her mouth, even before he'd heard what she had to say. "I guess, though, she'll eventually get over it. One of these days someone that's man enough to live up to his shit will come along. He'll be looking for a pretty lady, a cute kid, and he'll be awful fucking glad you didn't have the balls to hang in there."

Daryl shot up then, about the time that Alice took to her feet. He was furious at the idea that some man would come into the prison…that he would even think of touching Carol…of touching his kid.

"Shut your fuckin' mouth!" Daryl growled. "Ain't nobody fuckin' touchin' her!"

"Oh, but he will," Alice said. "But it won't matter to you, because you'll have kept your distance, right? Stayed the fuck out of the way so you didn't accidentally fuck up. And he'll fuck up too, but he'll have the balls to get the fuck over that shit."

Daryl wanted to kill her, and obviously she knew it. She stepped back, keeping her eye on the edge of the truck.

"I just don't wanta do it again," Daryl said. The anger seeped out of him, slowly, as he realized that Alice was more than prepared for him to come at her. He didn't want to hurt her either, not really. He didn't want to her and he didn't want to hurt Carol. "I'd be better off on my own."

"But you're not on your own anymore," Alice said. "You married her, didn't you? You said for better or for worse, or whatever the hell hillbilly variation of that you chose. In about four months, you're going to be a daddy, Daryl. There's going to be another living being on this planet that exists because you put it here with Carol. There's only two ways you'll ever be alone again, and that's if something happens to both of them or you pussy out and run the fuck away. I might have thought you were a lot of things since I got here, but I never figured you for a pussy."

Daryl watched her as she started to the side of the truck, trying awkwardly to slide down. That was it? That was all she had to say? She wasn't going to yell at him for what he did or point out how fucked up it was that he'd tried to drag Carol out of the truck in the first place? She was just going to yell at him for trying to stay far enough away not to hurt Carol again and then try to drop her annoying ass over the side of the truck.

Daryl didn't want to abandon Carol and the baby. That was the last thing he wanted. He'd been reading the fucking book. He'd tried to listen to every damn word of advice that Alice gave him. He wanted to do everything right for them both. He wanted to make everything perfect for Carol, and he wanted his kid to have the best life that it could have. He didn't want to hurt either of them, but he didn't want to abandon them either.

"Stop for a fuckin' minute, would ya?" Daryl said.

Alice stopped her ill planned descent, hanging halfway over the side. Daryl walked over and caught her arm, holding her there.

"Ya really think that she's gonna forgive me?" Daryl asked. "Ya think I really ain't gonna fuck this up?"

"I know she's going to forgive you," Alice said. She grunted. "She's been asking me where the fuck you are and I've been lying to her. She thinks you're helping me with some big project, but I haven't thought far enough ahead to know what the hell we're doing…and the only way you're going to fuck it up is if you keep being an asshole."

Daryl sighed.

"Fine, I'm gonna try ta talk ta her, but it's on your damn head if I was right an' I fuck this shit up. I'ma kill ya if ya talked me into goin' back in there just ta make her life worse," Daryl said.

Alice grunted.

"You're going to kill me anyway if you don't let go of my arm," Alice said. "Shit's crushing my ribs…"

Daryl realized that she was pinned in a pretty awkward position. He didn't know what else to do, so he grabbed up both her arms, pulled her up a little, and dropped her over the side. She landed with a thud and he bent down, jumping off the back beside her.

"I fucking hate you," Alice said, lying in the grass.

"Feelin's pretty damn mutual," Daryl said, reaching down and hauling her up to her feet.

He started back toward the prison, hoping Alice was right and hoping that he could somehow make this up to Carol. More than that, though, he hoped that somehow he could keep from becoming the man that he was most afraid of being, and that he would never have to know that someone he loved got caught in his wake. Today's accident may have been minor, but Daryl was under no false impression that things couldn't ever get worse, and that's what terrified him more than anything about himself.


	55. Chapter 55

Alice had warned Daryl, on their trek across the prison yard, that she'd given Carol something to help a little with the pain and make her drowsy. Other than that, she'd simply wished him luck and told him to get his ass in there and act like a man.

When Daryl came through the curtain to the cell, the lamp was burning beside the bed. He'd refilled the thing a few days before and the oil that was in there now gave of a floral smell. He didn't mind it much, but it was different than the smell they'd had before.

Carol was laying on the opposite side than she normally did, facing the wall. Daryl knew it was to keep the leg with the stitches from being under her. The blanket was half thrown over her and he could see that the bandage that ran down the back of her thigh wasn't covered. She was apparently asleep, though, and he wondered if he should wake her.

Daryl slipped out of his clothes, ignoring the fact that he had missed supper. He hoped that Carol had eaten, but he didn't know if she cared to eat after the whole fiasco with the run and then with him being gone the whole day. He sighed and crawled onto the bottom of the bed, attempting to shake it as little as possible as he slid next to the wall and tried to make his way to the pillow to wedge himself in between the wall and Carol's body.

She shifted a little as he crawled, and moaned, her hand going up for a moment toward her face and then falling back limply over her belly which was beginning to take up more room than it once had.

Daryl eased himself into his position, thinking that he'd been successful for the most part. Carol had stirred, but she was already sleeping again. He only had to extinguish the lamp now and he could deal with the problem in the morning. Daryl leaned up onto his elbow and leaned over Carol, blowing out the lamp.

As he eased back down in the darkness, he heard her breath catch.

"You came back," she said softly, her voice groggy from sleep. Daryl froze for a moment, not sure how to respond and now feeling blind while his eyes adjusted to the very dim light that trailed in from under the blanket. What was trailing in only owing to the lamps of those who were still up in the common area, it being admittedly much earlier than they normally would have gone to bed.

"Always comin' back, woman," Daryl said.

"Where did you go?" She asked.

Daryl swallowed hard. He didn't want to tell her the truth, that he'd run to hide on top of an old truck because he was afraid of hurting her, of eventually hurting the baby, of things that he couldn't control about himself. He was almost as afraid to tell her that as he was of it happening, somehow feeling that if he admitted out loud that those were his feelings he'd somehow be speaking them into reality. He didn't want to lie to her, though, either. She'd gone on and on about how he had to be honest with her, how they had to talk about things.

"I was outside," he said. "I talked ta Alice for a while."

Carol shifted her weight a little and he felt the mattress wiggle. Her hand rested on his arm and he felt her rubbing her hand up and down it, slowly and lazily. He wondered how strong the drugs were that Alice had given her, and how long it would take her drift back off.

"What about?" Carol asked, yawning.

Daryl was starting to think that her drug induced stupor had wiped her memory clean of everything that had happened. She hadn't seemed to expect any sort of apology yet. Not for dragging her through the back of the truck and hurting her, not for disappearing for the better part of the day, not for anything. She'd only been concerned, so far, with the fact that he'd come back, and now with the topic of conversation that he'd had with Alice.

Daryl felt around in the semi darkness. He could see her form, but nothing was clearly outlined. His fingers touched her face and he knew the softness and the contour of her cheek like nothing else. He felt like if he were struck blind he could find her face in a sea of others. He rubbed his thumb gently over her cheekbone.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"What?" Carol asked, her hand coming up and resting over the top of his.

"I'm sorry, Carol," Daryl said. "I didn't mean ta hurt'cha. I swear I didn't mean ta do it. I was really just playin' with ya. I never woulda drug ya like that if I'da known it was gonna hurt ya."

He felt his heart clench like it had earlier. Part of him wanted her to be mad at him. He deserved her being angry with him. He'd been an ass and he caused her pain, and he felt like she should be able to do the same to him, but she wouldn't ever hurt him. Not even accidentally. She wasn't capable of the same kinds of things that he was capable of, like even accidentally hurting him.

Carol moaned a little, and yawned again.

"Oh, Daryl, I know you didn't mean to do it," Carol said. "Nobody thinks you meant to do it."

Daryl felt his breathing getting shorter. It wasn't as easy to get air as it had been, and he wondered if the cell was suffocating him, or the smoke from the new oil in the lamp, or what it was that was choking him like that.

"I ain't good for ya," he said. "Carol, I didn't even mean ta hurt ya an' I did. I ain't good for ya," he said. He felt Carol running her thumb across the top of his hand. After a second, she shifted and moved her hand.

"Daryl, what's wrong?" She asked. He could hear that her voice had changed and he really wished he hadn't blown out the lamp before. He wished that he could see her face, but he supposed the only good thing was that she couldn't see his either so he didn't have to worry about his expression.

"Ain't nothin' wrong," Daryl said. "I just realized that I ain't good for ya. I'm too rough for ya an' ya got hurt an' ya could get hurt again. I ain't made for this kinda thing. I ain't gentle enough an' I ain't the right kinda man ta have no baby neither, Carol. I could break the damn thing quick as look at it."

"Daryl Dixon," Carol said, her voice shaking, "I sincerely hope that this is some kind of seriously bad joke you're trying to pull right now."

"I ain't jokin'," Daryl said. "Ya told me ya wanted me ta be honest with ya an' I'm bein' honest."

"Well I take it back," Carol said. "I want you to lie to me!"

Daryl wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but he knew now that he wanted the lamp on for whatever was taking place. He leaned around Carol, his fingers scraping the table trying to find the lighter.

"What are you doing?" Carol asked. She had started sobbing now and Daryl didn't know how to turn her off and turn the light on at the same time.

"Calm down a second," he said. "I'm tryin' ta light the lamp so I can see ya damn face."

He finally got the lamp lit and Carol was leaning up in bed. She was obviously sleepy and her eyes were heavy, but she was sobbing. He didn't know what else to do, so he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

"You can't do this," she sobbed. "It's not fair for you to do this."

Daryl rubbed her back with one of his hands.

"I ain't doin' nothin', stop cryin'," he said.

"Please, Daryl, don't do this," she said.

Daryl sighed.

"I'm just tryin' ta talk ta ya, Carol. Ya said ya wanted me ta be honest with ya an' I'm tryin' ta tell ya what I been feelin'…what I been thinkin' 'bout all day. Ya gotta stop cryin' though or everyone in the damn prison's gonna be hangin' outside our damn cell wonderin' what the hell I done fucked up on now," Daryl pleaded.

Carol pulled away, her face damp with tears. She was choking back the sobs and visibly swallowing hard, but she was making an effort not to cry.

"Please, Daryl, don't run away from me," she said.

Daryl sighed.

"I ain't runnin' nowhere," Daryl said. "Lay ya head back down."

Carol settled in next to him again, every now and again a sob escaping.

"I was tryin' ta tell ya that I'm scared, Carol. I don't want ta hurt ya an' I don't want ta hurt the baby none neither," Daryl said.

Carol was quiet after a few minutes, tracing her finger back and forth across his chest.

"Daryl, the only thing that scares me is the thought of you leaving me," Carol said. "You left today and I got scared. I thought you might not come back, but Alice promised you were going to be back. And now you're telling me that you don't think you're good for me, and that you're not good for the baby, and it sounds to me like the next thing you're going to say is that you're leaving. I don't want you to say that."

Daryl pulled her closer to him, interrupting the pattern she was drawing with her finger. He leaned down, kissing her forehead.

"I don't want ta leave ya," Daryl said. "I don't want ta hurt ya though."

"Daryl, if you left you'd hurt me worse than anything you could do to me with your hands," Carol said.

"Then I ain't goin' nowhere," Daryl said. "I just got scared 'cause I know I hurt ya today an' I didn't mean it an' it got me thinkin' of all the ways that I could hurt ya just on accident. An' what if I did the same thing ta the baby?"

"Everybody makes mistakes, Daryl. I know that you were just afraid today. It's really my fault. I shouldn't have insisted on going on the run when you told me that you didn't want me to go. I just wanted to go. I wanted to prove that I could still go outside the fences…that I wasn't scared to go outside them," Carol said.

Daryl ran his fingers through her hair for a moment and then tipped her face toward his, bringing his lips to hers. She kissed him deeply and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her tongue twisting with his. The taste of her mouth a familiar taste, a comfortable one.

"I'm sorry I scared ya," Daryl said. "I promise, I ain't goin' nowhere. I didn't want'cha goin' on the run today 'cause I want'cha ta be careful. I don't want nothin' hurtin' you or the baby, an' it's a lot harder ta protect ya out there than it is in here."

Carol scooted closer to his chest then, her face resting right at the crook of his neck. He could feel her breath on him. He let his hand slide down her back and ghost down gently to her thigh, just where he could feel the start of the bandage.

"Ya leg hurt?" He asked.

"It's fine," Carol said.

"Ya'd lie any damn way," Daryl said. "Ya want me ta be honest with ya, but ya don't wanta be honest with me all the time. Ya act like ya scared ta admit ya hurt."

Carol sighed.

"Yes," she said. "It hurts, Daryl. I just don't want you to be upset about it."

Daryl chuckled a little at the situation.

"You the one that got hurt," he said. "An' I'm the asshole that done it an' then left ya, an' now ya tellin' me that ya don't wanta say it hurts 'cause ya don't want me ta be upset about it?"

Carol moaned and hummed at him a little. He almost laughed at her, realizing she was growing sleepy again now that he had calmed her down about the fact that he wasn't planning on leaving her. He really didn't want to leave her. He felt like if he left her, he could never stay at the prison because he couldn't live knowing that she was close to him and he couldn't have her. He wasn't sure that he could live even if he left the prison. He was beginning to think that he'd turned completely into one of those pansy ass people that Merle used to talk about, because he honestly felt that if anything ever happened to her, she'd somehow just take his heart with her.

"I'm glad you came back," Carol said. Daryl wondered if she'd already forgotten everything that had just happened. He smiled to himself a little and kissed her face again.

"Jesus, woman, I'm always comin' back," he said.

He lie there a minute, wondering if he should lean up and blow the lamp out or just let the damn thing burn for a bit. Carol jumped a little, pulling away from him and looking up at him for a minute.

"What? Can't'cha go back ta sleep?" Daryl asked. He stared into her eyes for a moment and she just kept looking at him. "I promise ya, Carol, I ain't goin' nowhere, just go back ta sleep."

Carol smiled at him. She pushed his arm off of her and took his hand, trying to push his hand onto her belly. Daryl struggled against her a little. He didn't really like touching it. He tried, for the most part, to avoid touching it altogether. She liked for him to touch it, though he had no idea why, but it wasn't something that he enjoyed in the slightest. He'd tried to tell her time and time again that it was weird and it made him uncomfortable. Now that it was growing some, it was making him even more uncomfortable.

"Stop, Daryl, just give me your hand," Carol said.

Daryl sighed. He supposed if he could slice her leg open on the back of the truck and she could refrain from yelling at him or even acting like she was bothered at all by the act, he could touch her damn belly so she'd go to sleep. Reluctantly he relaxed let her guide his hand.

She pressed his hand against her belly and Daryl felt an odd movement like her stomach muscles flinched. He snatched his hand away quickly. It was bad enough that she made him touch it, but damn if she was going to move like that too.

"You felt it?" She asked.

Daryl rubbed his hand on the rough blanket attempting to remove the strange sensation from his palm.

"What the hell were ya doin' any damn way. Ya know I don't like touchin' it an' then ya go fuckin' with me like that," he said.

Carol chuckled a little, her hand pressed where his had been earlier.

"Daryl, that wasn't me fucking with you," Carol said. "That was the baby."

"Yeah," Daryl said, "I know, touch my belly, feel the baby, that's the baby, I heard all that."

Carol smiled at him and leaned up, kissing him. He leaned into the kiss, despite his frustration, and hung there until he wasn't frustrated with her any longer. He reached his hand around her, rubbing the soft skin on her back, kneading her muscles a little under his palms. She moaned into his mouth before pulling away from the kiss.

"I meant," she said, "that it was the baby that you felt moving. I didn't move, the baby did."

"Ya mean that jumpy thing was the baby?" Daryl asked, wrinkling his forehead. Carol giggled at him. She was biting her lower lip at him like she normally did when she wasn't sure how he was going to react to something. She nodded a little.

"It was kicking," she said. "Stopped now. I moved, so I guess it decided to stop."

"So what? It's just in there wiggling around an' shit?" Daryl asked, leaning up on his elbow. "When did it start doin' that shit?"

Carol laid back down and Daryl stayed where he was. She closed her eyes, but she was still facing him. She yawned after a second.

"It's been moving around for a while now," Carol said. "It's just getting stronger now. Mel felt it earlier, so I thought that you might be able to feel it now."

Daryl was curious now. He knew that the baby was in there because Carol talked about it, and Alice talked about it, and the book talked about it. He'd even read in his book about the baby moving, but he hadn't felt anything moving in there so far, so he just kind of figured that the whole thing was something that happened but you never _actually _knew that much about it. He'd felt it, though, or at least he'd felt something. It felt more like a twitch or like Carol had a muscle that jumped. He wouldn't really have identified the feeling as a kick.

Daryl couldn't believe he was going to voluntarily do this, but he put his fingers back where he'd felt the twitch before. Nothing happened. He looked at Carol and he didn't know if she was asleep or if she was playing possum, but he suspected she was playing possum since she wasn't snoring, and he still hadn't let on to the little secret that she'd started snoring pretty much all the time when she slept.

Daryl wondered if the baby was asleep too. He thought that maybe he could wake it up or something. If it had been kicking just a few minutes before, how quickly could it really go to sleep. He pressed his fingertips down, hoping to kind of poke it awake, but he only succeeded in making Carol grunt and roll somewhat quickly away from him.

"Jesus, Daryl!" Carol said.

Daryl snatched his hand back like he'd been burned, or like he'd burned her.

"You won't touch my belly voluntarily for five months and then the first thing you do is try to stick your hand all the way through me?" Carol was leaned up now, rubbing her belly.

"I'm sorry," Daryl said. "Didn't mean ta hurt ya…" He realized he'd said that a lot tonight. He sighed and flopped into his place on the mattress.

Carol sat up for a moment and then she sighed and lie back down next to him.

"It's OK," she said. "I didn't mean to snap at you. You just surprised me, that's all."

"Did I hurt the baby?" Daryl asked with a sigh.

"No, Daryl," Carol said. She wiggled around a bit and kissed his cheek. "You didn't hurt the baby. Everybody's fine here. I'm fine, you're fine, the baby's fine…we're all just fine."

"Carol I keep fuckin' up," Daryl said. "I can't do a single damn thing right today. I told ya, I ain't no good for ya."

Carol pulled his face around and kissed him again, but he only halfheartedly returned the kiss.

"Daryl Dixon," Carol said, doing her best attempt to growl at him, "do NOT deny me my kiss. I'm not perfect. I mess up on plenty of things. I made you mad today about trying to go on the run, didn't I? You're doing just fine and you have been and always will be the best damn thing to happen to me. Now I'm not pissed about the accident in the back of the truck, and I'm not pissed that you took the day to go on vacation and think about things, and I'm not even pissed that you haven't learned how to gently interact with the baby. Those are just little things, but if you keep saying that you're not right for me, and you insist on denying me my kisses, _then_ you're going to see me pissed."

Daryl almost laughed at the venom in her voice. He'd never quite heard her growl at him with that kind of intensity. He _believed_ her at the moment.

Daryl leaned his head and pulled her into a kiss. She squirmed a little then and he pulled her against him. He wanted to throw his leg over her and pull her flush against him, but he knew he'd likely just end up grazing his leg over her wound, so he decided not to try his luck.

"Go ta sleep, Carol," he said when he pulled away from the kiss. He ran his fingers through her hair again. "Tomorrow's gonna be another damn day, an' maybe I'll make it through the whole damn thing without hurtin' ya."

"Promises, promises," Carol said. She giggled and snuggled into him.

"That shit ain't funny," Daryl said, moving his arm from around her.

Carol reached over and pulled his arm over her. He hugged her a little closer against his chest.

"I love you, Daryl," Carol said.

"I love ya too, woman," Daryl said.

Carol was quiet for a minute and then she started giggling. Daryl almost laughed at her, wondering if whatever drugs she had taken were affecting her brain.

"What the hell ya laughin' at? He asked.

"Just promise me that the next time you go ripping open parts of my body," Carol said, "I at least get to hold your hand while Alice is stuffing everything back in and sewing me up, OK? Because that shit really wasn't very fair."

"Damn it," Daryl said. "I knew ya weren't really gonna let that shit just drop."

Carol giggled again.

"No, really, I'm not mad…I'm just saying that next time at least stay with me? It really hurt and then she gave me a two shots on top of it and you weren't even there to hold my hand," Carol said.

Daryl snickered then. He could tell by her tone of voice that she really wasn't mad, but she wanted to give him a hard time.

"Ya poor damn thing," Daryl said, chuckling a little and rubbing her back again.

"I know," Carol said, putting on a very fake wine and rubbing her face against him. "It was bad."

"Did she even give ya a sucker?" Daryl asked.

"No," Carol said. "Nothing. Just poked me to death and then made Rick carry me back in here to lie here all alone."

"Well, I'll make sure that shit don't happen next time I drag ya ass across some sharp damn metal, how's that?" Daryl asked, reaching down and gently pinching at Carol's hip. She giggled again and squirmed a little.

"Promise?" She asked, yawning.

"Promise," Daryl said. "Now go ta sleep, ya 'bout damn loopy."

"Mmmm kay…" Carol moaned. Daryl lie there a few minutes, holding her and rubbing his hand up and down her back until she started to snore. He suppressed the chuckle he felt rising in his throat and leaned up enough to blow the lamp out.

He hadn't meant to hurt her, that much was true, but he was even sorrier now that he hadn't stayed with her. She'd been teasing him, and he knew that, but he also knew there was some truth to it. It hadn't mattered to her that he'd accidentally hurt her. Apparently she could easily over that, but what had really traumatized her for the day wasn't the piece of metal that sliced into her, it was the fact that he wasn't there to hold her hand afterwards.

It was hard for Daryl to wrap his mind around, but somehow Carol could forgive him for just about anything. The only thing she wanted was for him to be there…with all his imperfections in tow. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand a few more times down her back. He'd do his best never to hurt her, but he'd make damn sure from now on that if he did, he didn't chicken out and run away. He was done running away from the woman he loved. And he was thankful that she'd seen fit to love him enough to forgive him for running away this time.


	56. Chapter 56

**AN: Sorry, I've been on hiatus for a few days because I got really wrapped up in my fic Sweet Junction. I'm making rounds and updating to get my other stories back on track though. Sometimes you just overrun with a story when there's a lot going on it! Sorry about the wait! **

**OK, so here we go…there's an Ellis Brigsby warning for the second half, so if you don't want to read anything Ellis related with all the Ellis warnings that apply, you won't want to read that part. Consequently there's a good bit coming up that you're not going to want to read either. **

**Ellis is despicable, so pretty much any warning you can tack on a person like that applies. **

**In other news, I'd like to thank everyone who voted for Alice in SAO loving mom's contest. She won for best use of an OC character and I'm thrilled. Thank you all! I'm glad to know that you like her. I enjoy her as well! **

**Hope you enjoy the chapter, more to come soon…**

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Daryl growled to himself when he opened his drawer to dig out a clean shirt to put on and there was the blue notebook on top of his clothes. This was how Alice did things. When she had some message for him, something particularly pressing in her opinion, he would find that the blue notebook had been removed from his cell and had magically reappeared in his clothes.

Daryl had spent the entire day helping Tyreese with the rabbit run and fences they were constructing in D Block and frankly he was tired. He wasn't sure that he wanted to read Alice's running commentary on how he was failing at life, but he also had watch, and nothing much happened on watch, so he might as well take it up with him.

Daryl tucked the blue notebook and the other book into his bag for entertainment. He threw the bag over his shoulder and left his crossbow, knowing it wouldn't be of any use in the watchtower. He stepped through the prison and out the door where he found Carol with some of the other women washing up the dishes from supper.

"Got watch," Daryl growled as he neared them.

Carol didn't get up, and he didn't blame her. It had only been a couple of days since her accident and up and down actions pulled at the stitches. Once she was up, she tended to try to stay that way for at least a while and the same went for when she was down.

Daryl walked over and leaned down, meeting her to give her a quick kiss.

"Have fun," Carol teased. Daryl grunted at her and ignored the rest of the women who were gathered around.

Watch was the most boring of jobs imaginable. The good thing about a quiet watch, clearly, was that it meant that there were no problems and nothing much was happening around the prison other than the slight accumulation of Walkers around the fences that Michonne cleared out with regularity. On the other hand, nothing going on meant that you sat for hours trying to think of ways to keep yourself from going stir crazy.

When Daryl came into the watchtower, he found Rick up there. Daryl dropped his bag in a corner and walked over to the pile of things that had slowly been accumulated up there. He took one of the coats. It was cold, and there was no denying it. It wasn't freezing by any means, but if you were just going to sit out in the weather, especially in the drafty little tower, then you appreciated the added warmth of something like the coats that they'd stockpiled up there.

"Seen anything?" Daryl asked, pulling on the coat and flopping down near Rick.

Rick shook his head.

"Nothing. Walkers, but not even many of them," he responded.

"Gettin' cold," Daryl said. "Even the damn Walkers got enough sense not ta be out in the cold."

"It feels like it's going to be a harsh winter this year," Rick said. "I won't be surprised if we get a decent snow at least once."

Daryl nodded. It did seem like it was going to be a harsh winter.

"At least we damn near stocked," Daryl said. "Reckon we need ta hurry up an' get them last couple runs in. Otherwise some shit's gonna happen an' we gon' get the first damn blizzard ever in the history a' Georgia or some shit like that."

Rick chuckled.

"It does seem sometimes like our luck doesn't quite hold out the way we'd like it to," Rick said. "I guess, though, that we've been lucky in some ways too. At least we have the prison for the winter."

"True," Daryl said. "I'd hate ta be winterin' hard with Carol pregnant. I can't take care of her like she needs no way an' I sure as shit wouldn't want ta be worried 'bout her gettin' frostbite an' shit on top of it."

Rick nodded his head a little.

He turned around, burrowing in the bag that he'd brought up and dug out two half bottles of whiskey. He offered one to Daryl.

"Knock the chill off," Rick said.

Daryl accepted the bottle and sipped a small amount of the burning liquid.

"Rick," Daryl asked after a moment, "were ya damn near terrified when Lori was pregnant?"

Rick nodded a little, sipping from the bottle he had in his hand. He looked through the binoculars checking again for signs of something that wasn't there.

"Not with Carl," Rick said. "We had planned for a while for Carl so when Lori was pregnant I guess it felt like things were just falling in place. Lori seemed to just handle everything, and I was on the sidelines. With Judith it was a different story. We couldn't find a single place to settle down, there were Walkers every time we turned around…I was more than terrified…although I know that's not the manly thing to say, right?"

Daryl chuckled a little.

"Why, Daryl?" Rick asked. "Are you terrified?"

Daryl shrugged.

"I don't even fuckin' know anymore, Rick," Daryl said. "I ain't cut out for this shit, not like you."

"You have been paying attention to my life, right Daryl?" Rick asked. "You have had a look at how well I've done so far, right?"

Daryl shrugged.

He knew that Rick was still getting over Lori's death. He knew that Rick somewhat entertained some kind of relationship with Karen. He also knew that Carl was growing up and Rick was trying to do everything he could to raise Carl to be more like they were before the world had gone to shit and less like the new world seemed to want to make everyone. Rick was good with Judith too, but Daryl knew that he took all the help he could get, and luckily for him there were a lot of people around willing to help.

"I reckon ya done pretty good, Rick," Daryl said. "I mean Carl's doin' alright, he's a good kid. He might have his problems, but hell, I 'member what the fuck I was like at his age. An' Lil' Asskicker, she's just a baby."

"And Lori?" Rick asked.

Daryl shrugged again.

He didn't want to admit that he'd never cared for Lori. He didn't want to admit that he was surprised that Lori had lived as long as she did.

"Can't win 'em all," Daryl said finally.

Rick nodded.

Daryl knew it was a sore spot, so he decided to quit talking about it. He left the conversation and took the bottle with him to the corner, wrestling the notebook out.

"I think you're going to do just fine, Daryl," Rick said. "You may even surprise yourself. Carol's what? Five months pregnant? Six? That baby will be here before you know it and then I think you'll surprise yourself."

Daryl grunted a little.

"Five," Daryl responded.

Rick looked at him.

"She's five months pregnant," Daryl said. "Twenty one weeks."

Rick laughed.

"You know the weeks, Daryl?" He said.

Daryl dug the big book out of the bag and shoved it at Rick across the floor.

"Keep it marked," Daryl said. Rick looked at the book.

"I never would have thought you'd be reading this," Rick said. "Lori had something like this when she was pregnant with Carl. She used to tell me about it, but I didn't ever actually read it."

Daryl shrugged.

"Alice give it to me. That way I know what the hell is goin' on," Daryl said. He watched as Rick looked at the book halfheartedly out of boredom and then he turned his attention to his notebook, flipping through all the pages that were already soft from wear until he found the new page where Alice had scribbled in blue ink her newest advice.

_We have to have a serious talk because you're a dumbass._

_No, really, you are. _

_I'm not kidding. A fucking dumbass sometimes, but we're going to get you the fuck through that. Listen, just like you cannot use the word fat, your dumb ass has got to fucking learn not to use the work "weird". _

_Your kid is not weird. Carol is not weird. Carol being pregnant is not weird. Do you get where the hell I'm going with this shit? It's not fucking weird. _

_Well, actually, I'll admit it's pretty fucking weird, but you're not allowed to say that. No matter how many fucking times you think that this whole damn thing is weird, you can't ever say it again. Never. NEVER. The next fucking run I go on I'm finding you a fucking thesaurus. That's a book where you look up the word you're thinking about and you pick another fucking word. You could really use one of those because your vocabulary is fucking ridiculous. _

_Listen up. I know you're freaked out by the whole you felt the baby move shit. You need to get the fuck over that. Seriously. Like you needed to be over this shit yesterday. My top secret super spy says that you don't like to touch Carol's belly because it's "weird". Now I'm going to have to school you and I wasn't even going to go there this week._

_Here's your tip about pregnant women and bellies. Some will literally eat your face off if you touch them. Others will try to rub that shit on you when you're not looking. Know your fucking audience. _

_Carol is more of the second variety. She's not rubbing it on you, but she wants you to touch it. She wants everyone to touch it. All the damn time. Mel thinks it's something like some fucking words of affirmation or some psychological bullshit. Basically, acknowledge the belly, acknowledge the baby, and she'll go rub it on someone else. That's it…that's all we've got to do to pacify the hell out of your wife. Pretty damn easy. For us…you…it's a little bit different for you, my friend._

_You put that shit there so you better fucking touch it! You touching it makes her especially happy. Happy mama = happy baby. That means you touch the damn thing all the time and I mean all the fucking time. You come into a room, you kiss your wife, you touch the belly. You leave a room, you kiss your wife, you touch the belly. You have exactly twenty four hours to get over whatever the hell problem you've got with the belly. Come to terms with it however the hell you've got to do it. I don't fucking care. Twenty four hours. That's like one sun cycle and one moon cycle or whatever the fuck you hunters call that shit. After that, every damn time I see you, you better be rubbing that shit like you think a fucking genie is coming out of there and granting every fucking wish you've ever had._

_IF YOU DON'T…then I am going to begin randomly rubbing your belly. In front of people…ALWAYS in front of people. I will also begin to randomly dry hump your fucking leg just to make it that much more memorable for anyone around. And I will run. I will always run. Then you will have to explain to the damn audience, and there WILL BE an audience, why I dry humped you and rubbed your belly._

_So think on it. Which one of those sounds more "weird" to you? Touching your baby through your wife's belly or explaining what I have decided to do to you? _

_Twenty four hours. _

_Burn this…_

_Alice_

Daryl closed the notebook. He had absolutely no doubt that Alice meant what she said. He sighed and tucked the notebook back in his bag, looking up to realize that Rick was watching him.

"What's that?" Rick asked.

Daryl sighed again, sucking his teeth a little.

"Ya can't say nothin'," Daryl said.

Rick smiled.

"What? Love letters?" Rick asked.

Daryl shook his head, chuckling a little.

"Not exactly. They're notes from Alice. She keeps writin' me these notes an' tryin' ta tell me what I oughta do an' what I ought not ta do with Carol an' the baby," Daryl said.

Rick smiled, nodding a little.

"So you've got a spy?" Rick asked.

"That's what she calls Mel, but I don't think she knows that I know who her fuckin' spy is," Daryl said.

"Well is it good advice?" Rick asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"Don't know exactly," he said, "but a good bit a' what she says seems ta help."

Rick raised his eyebrows.

"How many men in the world wouldn't give just about anything to have a woman spy tell them how to understand women?" Rick asked. "I could have used that a few times in my life."

"It ain't as grand as ya think," Daryl said. "Ya met Alice, ain't'cha? She's a real bitch."

Rick chuckled.

"I steer clear of her," he said, "but I can imagine she's a handful. Still, if she's on your side that's better than nothing, isn't it?"

Daryl nodded.

"I reckon," he said.

Daryl took another drink from his bottle and chuckled again thinking about the note. He really didn't like touching Carol's belly, but apparently it was important to her and he was going to have to learn to love it. If he didn't, he didn't even want to imagine what the hell Alice was going to do to him to show him just how embarrassed he could be.

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"Boss, I think you gonna want to talk to Nelson," Henry, one of the scouts, said. "He's got a little something to tell you that might be pretty damn interesting.

Ellis was willing to talk to the man. He could use something interesting, or at least something less depressing than what he'd heard lately. The cold weather was setting in with more ferocity than they thought it would in Georgia and the herd wasn't holding up as well as they'd hoped. They'd lost a good bit of their caregivers and many of the young. In fact, they were selling young at bottom prices to attempt to move the little fuckers before they had time to die.

Ellis had even seen fit, lately, to allow some of the young to stay with the breeders. At least the body heat was keeping fewer of them from dropping like flies before his normal customers showed up to purchase them. It really wasn't a bad plan to let them keep them warm, but it did always cause a stir that he didn't like dealing with when the buyers got there to pick up a handful of the wailing things.

The cold wasn't great on the breeders either, and Ellis was worried they were going to lose more than they bargained for. Weather had a way of culling the herd a little, but too much and they'd be at a loss. Right now their numbers were sinking too close to the "too much" range for comfort.

"Send him in, then," Ellis said, leaning back on the booth seat in his RV. He had a lot of men out scouting now. They were looking for new customers, as always, but more than that they were looking for new stock. He was hoping to stumble across some heartier stock to, since travel had taken a lot out of some of what they had left.

Nelson came in the door of the RV some minutes later and Ellis gestured toward the other booth. Nelson nodded at him and slid into the seat, rubbing his hands together to warm them from having been out for most of the day.

"I'm told you have something of interest to tell me," Ellis said.

Nelson nodded.

"We found a prison, boss, a little ways from here," Nelson said.

"So?" Ellis asked. He hoped this wasn't going to be yet another of those worthless updates that the men kept bringing him.

"There's a pretty good sized group there," Nelson said. "Men, women, children, everything."

Ellis' curiosity was piqued.

"Buyers you think?" He asked. They always needed customers. The customer was what kept the business going, after all. Still, these days Ellis was beginning to fear that the supply wouldn't fill the demand as readily as possible if they didn't replenish their numbers some. Far more was going out than was coming in.

Nelson shook his head.

"I don't think so," Nelson said. "At least I'm pretty sure they've never bought from us before. I don't remember their faces. I got pretty close a time or two and got a good look at some of the potential breeders there. I didn't recognize them from stock and I," he cleared his throat, "like to frequent the breeders if you catch my drift."

Ellis nodded.

"Do you think they're potential buyers?" He asked.

Nelson shrugged a little. His greasy black hair fell in his face and Ellis curled his lip. This was the reason that men like Nelson were scouts. They needed to remain unseen as much as possible. He'd never send someone as unkempt as Nelson out to negotiate a deal. Still, the man was a damn good scout and he had developed a good reputation for getting whatever stock he promised.

"Hard to tell," Nelson said. "I don't think so, though. They seem to treat the two kids that I could see like they belong to them. One's a little kid, not good for anything. Don't know if it's a boy or a girl, but wouldn't eat well. The other could be trained, I think, if you could take him alive. Their breeders, too, they roam around unattended. They've even got one breeder that seems to work as some kind of guard for them."

Ellis scratched at his face.

"How many are we talking?" He asked.

"It's hard to get close and not get seen," Nelson said. "They're in and out the prison. I'd say there's about three or four good men there…one old man whose injured that we wouldn't bother with. More than a handful of breeders and one of them's already covered."

More than a handful of breeders, especially with one already covered, had a nice sound to it in Ellis' opinion. He was beginning to like Nelson even more. The man had come to them not too long ago from another group they ran into. He'd joined up with them telling them all kinds of stories about another group that he'd been with. It happened from time to time. Groups broke up or got killed off, and Ellis was always welcoming to their left overs.

"Can you get them?" Ellis asked.

"I think so," Nelson said. "But I'm going to need to take in a couple of groups of men. We won't take them in one wave. They're too protected for that."

Ellis nodded. He had little interest in the strategy used to capture the stock. He didn't care how they got them, as long as they did.

"There's more," Nelson said.

Ellis raised his eyebrows in question.

"They've got a zebra, but I don't know if it's the one you've been after. I got close enough to see her though, pretty face. They've got another woman there that's not a zebra, but you could sell her as one to someone who's not real picky. She's light enough. The breeder that's a guard is black, and there's a black man there. Good stock for making all the zebras you want," Nelson said.

Ellis grinned. This was the kind of news that he liked. This was the kind of news that he wished he got every day.

"I want them," Ellis said.

Nelson nodded.

"I want those four especially, and the covered breeder. Get as many breeders as you can, though, our stock is getting low. I don't care about the other men. Kill them, tranquilize them, I don't care. Take or leave the kids and the old man. I want them, though. When can you get them?" Ellis asked.

Nelson shrugged and scratched at his greasy hair.

"Hard to say exactly," he said. "If we can get the weapons together, get those tranquilizer guns and everything else loaded, and the men rested enough, we could take them as soon as the day after tomorrow or so. The only way we'll take them is by force. They're too barricaded in there to snatch them."

Ellis shrugged.

"I don't care. Take the men you want and the equipment you need. Take a truck if you want it to carry them back. I have no interest in how you do it, just get it done. I want them and I want them as soon as possible. If you get it done within the next three days I'll give you your pick of the stock," Ellis said. "My zebra excluded, of course."

Nelson nodded.

"Of course," he said. "I'll get everything organized this evening and talk to the men. We should have them all back here in far under three days."

Ellis smiled and shook Nelson's hand.

"You're a good worker, my boy," Ellis said. "You're going to go far in this business."

Nelson smiled and nodded.

"I hope so," he said. "Looking to get promoted one of these days."

"You get me that stock to add to the herd, and we'll surely see about it," Ellis said.

Nelson got up and started to the door. As his hand touched the knob to let himself out, he turned around, smiling again at Ellis.

"It's as good as done, sir, it's as good as done," Nelson said.

Ellis watched him leave and then sat back a moment, contemplating what Nelson had told him. This bunch could offer him some really good breeding stock if nothing else. Their luck might be changing and Georgia might not be the business breaker that he was beginning to think it was.


	57. Chapter 57

**AN: So this is a little bit of a filler/extra info/getting to know you kind of chapter. Those just have to happen every now and again.**

**For those of you who were confused:**

**For most of Ellis' vocabulary I use a mix of livestock terms (since he essentially views his "herd" as purely that, livestock) and slavery terms. **

**In livestock terminology, to cover an animal means to breed an animal. To say something, like a mare is covered, it means that she has been bred with the intent of getting her pregnant. Therefore his covered breeder, in this case, would be Carol.**

**In reference to the "zebra, it is a racial slur (and chosen specifically because of its relation to animals which is Ellis' favorite type of terminology) to describe biracial people. In this case, his zebra is Cynthia, part of the new group, which he's been chasing since they found them in the store. **

**I hope that clears up a little of the Ellis vocabulary.**

**Enjoy the chapter, there's more to come! **

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Alice was busy sorting through the things that may or may not still contain remnants of the obviously toxic mold that had coated their deliveries and she was doing it in the company of one Miss Cynthia Hyatt of San Diego, California. They had discovered, in the short time that they worked together, that both of them agreed an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure when it came to paper masks and gloves. They had also discovered that this was essentially all they could agree on.

"So have you always been this pleasant or was it some kind of bonus you got when life as we know it went to hell in a handbasket?" Alice asked, wiping down some cans with the soapy rag she fished out of her bucket.

"I'm sorry?" Cynthia remarked. "Was I supposed to be enjoying this?"

Alice shrugged.

"It's not the worst fucking thing I've been asked to do," Alice said.

"Not staying…" Carol's voice called through the storage area, "just dropping off some more water."

"Mask!" Alice called back.

Carol appeared in front of her a few minutes later carrying two buckets of water. She put one by Alice and then carried the other over to where Cynthia was sitting a few feet away.

"How's it going in here?" Carol asked.

Alice eyed her. She liked Carol, but sometimes Carol's need to take care of everyone else seemed to trump her need to take care of herself and that was frustrating if you were probably going to be the one expected to clean up any mess she made.

"Go back out," Alice commanded. "Everything's fine in here. And where's Mel? She should be carrying buckets."

"They're not that heavy," Carol protested. "It's fine. They're all working upstairs and I had a break. It made more sense for me to just bring the buckets down."

Alice pointed at her with the mystery can of food that they would eat sometime in the future.

"No more buckets. They're not that heavy once or twice, Carol, but the last thing we need is something stupid happening. It's better to just let someone else do it. Besides, I really love seeing Karen's sour face when she gets asked to do that shit. It could make washing cans that much better," Alice responded.

"Alice, you shouldn't give Karen such a hard time," Carol scolded.

"Oh shut it," Alice said. "She makes it too damn easy to pass up. Now get the fuck out of here. I don't want my baby breathing in any of this shit. OUT!" Alice barked.

Carol giggled at her and saluted her before she slipped out of the storage room and Alice shook her head to herself.

"You know," Cynthia said, "I just don't get it."

"Don't get what?" Alice asked.

"What the hell this group is doing with children and babies," Cynthia said incredulously. "Don't you get it? They're going to die! You might as well tell her that she can name that fucking baby breakfast, lunch, or dinner, whichever suits her fancy…and that's if it's lucky."

"See, there you are again," Alice responded, "Mary Fucking Sunshine."

"It's reality, Al-i-ce," Cynthia said. Alice looked at her and shook her head again.

"Well that's the longest I've ever heard anyone make my name," Alice said. "What the hell do you have against the kids that are here? What the hell do you have against Carol and her baby? For crying fucking out loud, what the hell do you have against anybody? We plucked your princess ass out of a supply closet where you would have fucking died from ingesting toxic fucking mold within two days. Save your bitch fits for somebody who gives a fuck."

"Do you remember what the hell I was doing in that supply closet, Alice? I wasn't in there on a tropical vacation, Alice! I was running for my life…" Cynthia said, her voice beginning to crack a little, "from…from monsters…"

"None of us are nuts about the Walkers, but what the hell can we do?" Alice asked, softened just a little by the fact that Cynthia was clearly going to cry momentarily. "Hey, don't cry down here. You're going to play hell blowing your nose if you can't touch it."

"The fucking dead people weren't the monsters, Alice!" Cynthia snapped. "The people I was with…they were good people, Alice. They were good people…and someone just came in with their guns and they just started killing everyone! Alice they fucking murdered them! And I ran with the others….out of thirty people, maybe forty…there are four of us left. Someone murdered them in cold blood and you're such a fucking great doctor that you didn't even save Eula!"

Alice was struck and she was hurt. She'd tried to save the old woman, but by the time she even knew what she was dealing with she had no more ability to save the old woman than she had to stop Michonne from miscarrying. As much as she may have wanted to dance around like the magical medical fairy and save every single fucking human being left alive on the garbage dump that was now Earth, she just couldn't do it. It wasn't possible.

"Fuck you," Alice said. "The woman was close to a hundred years old. She fucking gave up! She was ready to fucking die and you can't much blame her. I supposed if I was a hundred fucking years old when this shit started I would have just locked myself in my house and let go of the whole damn thing. Was she your grandma or some shit like that, because she sure as hell didn't look like it."

"Cunt!" Cynthia snapped back. "She wasn't even related to me. The group found her in some retirement home they came across." Cynthia was quiet for a few minutes as she shuffled through a pile of cans that had probably once been labelled but had lost any identifying qualities since the whole mold problem began. "When I looked at her…when I saw how far she made it…she was still alive, Alice. She made it through all of this shit! It was like proof that people could still fucking make it! We could still live to be a hundred years old instead of being eaten alive by fucking zombies or shot and killed in cold blood without any explanation at all."

Alice looked back at the woman. She was fighting crying again. Alice wanted to feel sorry for her, but she didn't want to feel sorry for her either.

"Maybe that's the same reason I care about the babies, did you ever think about that?" Alice asked.

Cynthia looked at her.

"The old woman…she lived her life. She was going to die. Hell, she was going to die soon before all this happened. She may have been the sweetest old woman alive and all that shit, but she had an expiration date and it was right around the fucking corner," Alice said. "She wasn't the future, she was more like some kind of relic from the past. Judith, though, and Carol's baby…I don't know…if the little fuckers can make it, then that's really what the fuck the future looks like. That's fucking proof that we can make it, don't you think? What if one of them lives to be a hundred? That's the real fucking challenge…not some old woman who already did that shit."

"You don't know what it's like out there, though," Cynthia said, shuddering a little. "Don't you understand? You're in here behind your fences, but out there things aren't that easy. Whoever it was that attacked us, whoever killed everyone or almost everyone, they aren't going anywhere. This world has always been full of scum, Alice, but now the scum have inherited the world."

Alice got up and paced around under the pretext of going to get more of the cans to wash off. Really she just needed to move. The storage room wasn't really all that bad and didn't freak her out as bad as some of the spaces she'd been in, especially since the door was open and she could come and go as she pleased, but it was still a fairly dark, damp place.

She found herself a box of the label free cans that still hadn't been cleaned and kicked them across the dirty floor an inch at the time toward the spot she'd cleared for herself.

"You think you were the only one out there?" Alice asked. "You think you've got some kind of fucking monopoly on crazy ass fuckers? You better let your pretty little pampered ass think again," she growled at Cynthia. "I've seen some shit. I've seen what pure fucking terror looks like, princess. I've seen the fucking faces of people who wished to fuck that someone would have come in and just shot them in the fucking face. You know what everyone in this fucking prison has in common? We've seen what the hell evil looks like. Don't think we've been sitting back here behind our fences in some kind of fucking blissful existence, because we haven't."

"So then why do you keep going if you know what's out there?" Cynthia asked. "Why keep fighting? Why even bother? You know that it's just going to get worse."

"We keep fucking living because it's a really shitty habit that we picked up somewhere," Alice said. "And I don't think it's going to get worse. We raise some fucking decent kids, who raise some fucking decent kids, and eventually the crazy fucks die out. We only lose the fight if we stop fighting."

"I thought you were a woman of science…of biology and human nature…" Cynthia said. "I didn't realize you were such a philanthropist."

Alice chuckled to avoid any other response that was threatening to bubble forth. She plopped down next to her newly arrived box of cans.

"I guess I'm just more of risk take than you are, Cynthia," Alice said. "I always was that fucker who wanted to know what was behind curtain number three. I'd rather live my stinking fucking gym sock than go home with my deluxe kitchen and never fucking know what might have happened. We keep fucking going and we keep trying to build some kind of shit because we just don't fucking know what's behind door number three."

11111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

"Construction," Brian said in response to Daryl's question about what he'd done before all of this.

"So how'd you end up with those people?" Daryl asked. He was helping Brian to mend one of the fences toward the back of the prison. A piece of it had been overlooked a little in their earlier scouring and Brian had drawn it to his attention.

Brian shrugged a little and dug around in his pocket for some wire cutters.

"I was working construction at the airport. They were rebuilding something there. I don't know if it was a gift shop or a coffee house or whatever. We were remodeling. When the panic broke out, I was there working and really didn't know what was going on. I figured it was some kind of "terrorist alert", you know? People, man, they were freaking out, but an airport's a great place to see some people lose their shit," he chuckled.

"Ain't never flew nowhere," Daryl said. "Don't reckon I'm likely to now."

Brian nodded.

"You didn't miss much. I flew once…went to some kind of convention my boss sent us to. We flew down to Florida. Wasn't much of a flight, but I didn't care for it. Imagine you're crammed into some kind of sardine can, and you're just puttering through space and praying that thing doesn't just fall right out of the sky," Brian said.

Daryl shook his head.

"I'm fine with keeping my feet on the ground for the most part," Daryl said.

"So anyway," Brian said, "I kept working because I was there alone and getting paid extra for the overtime. I had an ex-wife that was bleeding me dry of every red penny I could earn, and a kid that was the only reason I let the bitch get anything."

"Ya had a kid?" Daryl asked.

Brian nodded, smiling.

"Henry…he was four," Brian said. "I like to think that he's OK, you know? I like to think that he's safe somewhere."

Daryl nodded.

"I'm sure he is," Daryl said. He really wasn't sure the boy was safe, but what did it hurt to let Brian pretend he was? It wasn't like they were going to ever see the boy again, so if it helped the man sleep at night to think his son was alive, then it was really best to let him do just that. "So ya was alone an' everybody went outta their heads, then what?"

Brian snickered a little.

"Finally I decided that…hey…maybe I should go outside and see what the hell is going on, you know? But when I got out there it was even worse outside than it was inside so I took myself back into the airport and thought I'd wait that shit out. The government would show up, clean up the mess or whatever…it was an airport, after all and people got places to go," Brian said. "Ended up staying there for a pretty good while. Thought I was alone for the most part. Then I ran into Cynthia and Milagros. They'd both been on a plane that came in from California. Same damn plane. They were hiding out because they didn't know what the hell else to do."

Daryl nodded.

"I don't reckon too many people was too sure about what the hell ta do," Daryl said.

"So when we finally ran out of food, and there were about three other people with us, but they didn't make it out of our camp, we finally decided to go and see if there was anything left outside, but there really wasn't. As we went along, I guess you could say that we just started picking people up. Here and there. What about you? How did you land with these people?" Brian said.

Daryl shrugged.

"'Bout the same damn way, I reckon. Started out with my brother…Merle. Joined the group in Atlanta. Merle wanted to stay with 'em an' rob 'em, but they was good folks and Merle kinda got lost for a while there, so I stayed with 'em," Daryl said. He thought about it for a minute, retracing in his mind the time they'd all spent together. It seemed like it hadn't been any time at all on the one hand, but on the other it felt like it had been a journey that had lasted a hundred years. "Been a long damn road, ya know what I mean?"

Brian chuckled and nodded.

"The kind of story that you feel like if it had been the way things used to be then you couldn't even sell that shit as a movie because no one would believe it," Brian said.

"Pretty much," Daryl said.

"And your wife?" Brian asked.

"Carol was with the group in Atlanta. Was married to a worthless motherfucker who died there…" Daryl said. "Reckon ya could say I was slow on gettin' ta her, but now that shit's just part of the fuckin' story."

"I thought maybe I had a chance with Cynthia once upon a time," Brian said. "She was some kind of hotshot business woman, though, too good for a construction worker. I kind of thought the whole we're about to die thing might even the playing field a little, but I was wrong."

Daryl chuckled.

"Never say never," he said. "She does seem a little frosty around the edges, though. Might oughta set'cha sights on somethin' a lil' warmer. It's gonna get pretty fuckin' cold in that prison an' ya don't need no ice berg."

"Karen's not too bad to look at either," Brian said. "Or Sasha."

Daryl wiped his forehead on his sleeve.

"I don't know if Rick an' Karen got nothin' goin' on or not. She ain't 'xactly been the friendliest thing around. They come from a group that a fuckin' madman was runnin'. He put as all through hell an' Karen lost her son in the middle a' all that shit. People can say what they want, but I think it fucked with her a good bit," Daryl said. "As for Sasha, she's sweet. She can be right bossy, though, an' ya prob'ly gonna have ta go through Ty ta get too her."

"The overprotective brother, right?" Brian asked. Daryl nodded at him. "There's always a cockblock, my man. Even when the world is a hot pile of shit, there's always someone trying to keep you from getting any," Brian said.

Daryl smiled.

"If ya put it that way he ain't likely ta let'cha within' a hundred damn feet a' Sasha, but if ya play nice he might change his mind," Daryl said. "Ty's a pretty level headed guy. He ain't likely ta cream ya ass if ya don't deserve it. Of course, ya could always keep tryin' ta thaw out ya iceberg. Only took me three fuckin' years ta get my shit together with Carol. Ya might just need a minute or two longer."

Brian laughed.

"You might be right, Daryl. You just might be right," he said.

Daryl finished twisting the wire on his side in silence and Brian did the same with the area he was working with. There was only so much to really talk about these days. Everyone could talk about the past, but really once you'd caught up on everyone's story there wasn't much to tell other than to rehash the details.

The thing about talking about the past was that everyone had pretty much begun to give their stories as a type of run down. A laundry list of the most pertinent details. How they got to where the hell they currently were since the shit hit the fan, that was what most of the stories consisted of. From there you might get one or two personal details, but for the most part whatever you were and whatever your life was like before all this happened was something that you just kept to yourself. It was something that belonged just to you, and you only really shared it with those that you were closest to. It was gone anyway, so why spend much of your time rolling it over and over on your tongue?

And besides that, what was there really for conversation? If it was a good day, then nothing happened. That made for a good day, of course, but it made for a pretty boring one to discuss. If it was a bad day, then it probably meant that more shit than you wanted to think about happened. And if it was one of those days, you weren't likely to want to sit down and discuss it.

As a result, there was little to talk about and the whole getting to know you thing that had once been a social staple wasn't quite what it used to be. It could be done fairly quickly once you took the time to do it.

"I reckon we 'bout done here," Daryl said. "Look alright ta ya?"

Brian stood back and examined the area that they'd been working on.

"It looks a lot better than it did," he said. "You know, I was looking around the fences…a lot of the corners are cemented into the ground, and that's a good thing, but if the group is planning to stay here, I might make a suggestion."

"What's that?" Daryl asked.

"Well, when it warms up again and we've got time, it wouldn't be a bad idea to cement down some of the areas that are just sort of open. Go…say…every four feet maybe and cement a good little area into the ground. If you did that, I don't suppose a tank could get through any of these fences. We'd be safe enough in here that no one without grenades or a cannon or something like that could fuck with us," Brian said.

Daryl looked at the fence and thought about it. He didn't know what Rick's plans were and didn't know what the group would end up doing or how long they would stay. Brian's suggestion, though, was worth bringing up to the rest of the group. They certainly weren't above taking all the suggestions to keep safe that they could get, and it looked like Brian and his three friends were going to be joining them, so they'd be just as concerned about their safety as anyone else.

"Ya might be right," Daryl said. "We can talk ta the others about it."

Brian nodded and started collecting up what tools they had brought with them. Daryl threw a few pieces of scrap over the fence and then the two of them started back around to the front of the prison where the women were doing laundry and cooking something that smelled pretty decent.


	58. Chapter 58

**AN: Ellis warning from the third section until the end. **

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Daryl started walking the perimeter in a slow stroll. He pulled his poncho up, warding off the chill of the air around him. It seemed like there was a lot going on today, but he knew that it was his imagination. There was nothing more going on than had been going on every day with everyone trying to do anything that they could think of to feel like they'd done all there was to do for the winter. The funny thing was, the more they did, the more they realized there was still much to do.

Glenn and Rick had taken Jacob, one of the new people, on a run. They had jokingly called the run the last of the last runs. It seemed that lately every time they came back from a run, satisfied that they had all they needed, there was always someone there with yet another list.

Daryl didn't do perimeter checks often. Michonne loved to do them, so she spent most of her day walking back and forth, all the way around the prison, stabbing Walkers through fences and checking for weaknesses that might have appeared in the half hour since she'd been standing at that same spot.

Daryl hadn't seen Michonne, though, when he'd stepped out of the prison from helping some of the others in an effort to clean out some of the areas they hadn't yet taken complete control of. They were slowly trying to make more room and see what all the prison had to offer, but slow was the key word in that plan.

Michonne's disappearance wasn't too troubling to Daryl, though. The woman was very much like a human cat. She could slip in and out of spaces almost entirely unnoticed. She'd probably taken a break to handle any one of the normal human needs and would probably scare the shit out of him when she reappeared probably no more than a foot in front of him.

As Daryl continued along around the fence line, nearing the Lower Left as they referred to the region, he was struck by something, though. The first thing that caught his attention was that the grass, which was very tall in most places, especially where Michonne didn't stroll along hacking it off with her katana, was mashed down and broken. Daryl narrowed his eyes at it a little and stepped forward to examine it. As he moved closer, his foot hit something in the grass and he dipped down, coming up with Michonne's katana, still in its sheath.

For a second, Daryl stood there, the hilt of the katana in his hand, and then he felt uneasy as something akin to realization ran through him, though he hadn't really pieced together anything. All he knew was that Michonne was gone, and her katana, sheathe and all, was lying in the grass in one of the most remote areas of their fences. He didn't know what was wrong, but he knew that something was definitely off. Michonne's would have left her katana with the same willingness that most of them might have left their right arm.

Daryl turned his attention to the fence in the area now, concerned that something might be afoot. As he leaned in, his fingers trailing over the wire, he noticed that it looked like a piece of the fence had been cut and pushed back in place. He stood up and turned around suddenly, deciding to get back to the prison as quickly as possible and get some help in figuring out exactly what was going on. As soon as he turned, though, his world went black, just as the searing pain bit into him.

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Carol took a break, standing up to stretch her back. Most everyone was inside, clearing out some of the still untouched regions of the prison, and she had, of course, been forbidden by Daryl from going anywhere near them. She could, however, at least start preparing lunch. If they were in there all day fighting Walkers, they'd probably work off the oatmeal from breakfast without much effort and be starving before long.

Alice would scold her if she caught her carrying one of the heavy laundry baskets full of canned food to cook, but she could argue with her that dragging it was an entirely different concept. It had taken her a while to get it outside, though, and she was beginning to think that carrying it would be far more preferable to her body than the dragging, kicking combo that she employed so far. She felt like she'd been the one fighting her way through Walkers at this point.

Carol finished stretching and turned around quickly just to get a feel for how much ground she still had left to cover before the basket had reached its destination. She sighed a little at the distance and rubbed again at her lower back, deciding that there had to be an easier way to move the stupid load. She turned around, expecting to grab the basket, and hitting a wall of blackness instead.

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Carol came to suddenly when her back slammed into something hard. She gasped and tried to cry out, but quickly realized her mouth was gagged with something that was most likely duct tape. She blinked, her eyes blinded a little by light. Then things began to swim into focus and she realized she was lying on the ground and staring up at two men.

"Careful with that one, that one's mine," a young man said.

"Ain't yours, ain't nobody done no pickin' yet," the other young man said.

"Ellis said I get to pick first, and that one's mine, so just be mindful. I don't want her all beat up," the first of the young men, replied.

"Henry you ain't even seen what's comin' on the other truck, you ain't gonna want this one when you see some of the others," the second young man said.

"I'm going to see if I can talk Ellis into letting me keep the young'un, Wilks" Henry said. "He's going to let me keep it. We aren't selling like we were and this one's got the young'un, so it's the one I'm keeping. You can have your pick off the other truck if you like them so much."

The man named Wilks caught Carol under the arms, her hands bound with duct tape, and pulled her backwards along the ground. She had no idea where she was, but she was trying not to panic. She had no idea what had happened or if she was alone, but the mention of some other truck made her think that she might not be alone.

The dragging stopped and Carol looked around. She could see now that she wasn't by herself. From just where she was she could see that Karen was bound and gagged and leaning against a wall. To her other side was Melodye, but she appeared not to have come to at the moment, and Milagros was just beyond her.

Carol was propped against the wall between the two of them and she tried her best to calm down. It wasn't that easy to breathe just through her nose anyway, so most of her concentration was centered on getting oxygen and not panicking.

It appeared she was on some kind of farm, similar in a number of ways to Hershel's old farm. There were a few RVs parked around, some tented areas, and some trucks. Carol wasn't exactly sure what kind of building she was backed up against, but it didn't really matter anyway.

Hustling around the area were men…a lot of men. Carol didn't see any women, though, and it was beginning to worry her just a little.

A delivery truck of sorts roared up what Carol assumed to be the driveway to the property and a few men spilled out of it. They went around, opening the back of the truck and Carol watched as they unloaded onto the ground figures that she was sure she would recognize as they got closer.

She was correct, since the first body drug over to the wall, bound and gagged like the rest of them was Maggie, and shortly after came Beth and Alice. Lastly the men drug over Cynthia and Sasha, but they weren't leaned against the wall, instead they were laid flat on the ground a few feet from the legs of everyone else.

"Go and get Ellis," a filthy young man with long greasy hair said. "Tell him the stocks here and get the fires stoked."

Carol had heard mention of this Ellis fellow from Henry and Wilks, both of whom she'd lost sight of at the moment. She turned her head, wincing a little at the pounding there, and cast her glance over her comrades. Where were the rest of them? Where were the men? Were they the only ones left alive, or were the others coming on some other truck?

Carol closed her eyes a moment, willing herself not to panic. Somehow they were going to get out of this. There were a lot of them, and if they could figure out how to communicate, they were surely going to figure out some escape plan.

A few moments later a well-dressed man of probably forty five stepped forward, several of the other men not far from him and he surveyed them all. Carol didn't know why, but something about the man worried her. He looked to pristine for his surrounding, and he looked far too happy and smug to have a collection of bound and gagged women in front of him.

"Is this it?" He asked, tugging a little at the wrists of his long sleeved, white shirt.

"Couple more might be coming," the greasy haired man said. "We still got two waves out there. This is the biggest part of the haul though, and you already got that other one."

"Yes," the clean man said, smirking. "She's taken care of. May take some work to break her, but she isn't going anywhere."

The man walked over, leaning over Cynthia and Sasha. He rubbed Cynthia's face and then leaned in, touching Sasha on the cheek who tried to protest through her gag. The man chuckled and looked back at Cynthia.

"This one," he said. "I want her cleaned up and in my trailer as soon as possible. I don't want her tagged until I'm done with her. Find someone who can break her quickly. I won't be dealing with that."

One of the men that Carol hadn't heard named before, but who appeared to be about the same age as the clean man that she was now beginning to assume was Ellis, nodded and walked off.

The clean man stood up.

"Where's Henry?" He asked.

Almost immediately, apparently from having been in earshot, the man named Henry that Carol had seen earlier appeared.

"Here, boss," Henry said.

"As promised, Henry, you get first pick. Anything you want?" Ellis asked.

Henry nodded.

"I want the heavy one," Henry said. "But I wanted to ask, sir, if it's possible that I could keep the young'un when it comes."

Ellis looked at Henry as though he were seriously considering whether or not he would allow this. He put his hand on the shoulder of the young man after a while and smiled at him.

"You've been waiting for one for a while, haven't you? I think you were supposed to get a pick the last three times that you passed on," Ellis said, smiling.

Henry nodded.

"Fine, you can keep them both," Ellis said.

Henry smiled.

"I don't want her tagged, neither," Henry said. Ellis nodded.

"Fine, but remember that if you decide to put her with the herd she's got to be tagged before you do. We don't want things getting unorganized. Henry nodded at him.

"I got my room ready, so they can put her in there while I help with the tagging," Henry said.

"Good work ethic, son, she'll be there when you get there," Ellis responded. He looked over the rest a moment, and Carol said a small prayer that this was going to end well, somehow, for all of them and that they weren't trapped in some kind of nightmare. "Nelson, I hope you don't mind that you get second pick."

The greasy man smiled.

"I don't care, boss, didn't have my sights set on that one no way. Too messy to deal with them when they're covered. If you don't mind, though, I don't really have a hankering to keep any of them for very long," Nelson responded.

Ellis chuckled.

"Of course you're always welcome to all the breeders that you like, Nelson. You know that's one of the bonuses of your position. If you fancy starting with anyone, though, she could be delivered as soon as she's tagged. You've done very well and you deserve your reward," Ellis responded.

"I'll come out and nose through them later," Nelson said. "I'm going to drive back down the road a bit and make sure some of the men we left out there don't need a hand."

"Suit yourself," Ellis said. He reached into his pocket and a few minutes later came out with a small notebook. He walked over to Milagros, the first in the line, and removing a permanent marker from his shirt, he wrote a number on her arm. "Henry, you can get the others and start tagging these. You may need to keep them corralled for a bit until we see how broken they are."

"Yes sir," Henry responded. "Um, Ellis, sir?"

Ellis stopped what he was doing and turned to Henry.

"Yes?" Ellis asked, not getting up from his stooped position.

"I just wanted to remind you, boss, that I don't want mine tagged. And I wanted to ask if you could get someone like John to take her up for me? Some of the others, they're rough and I know it don't matter if they're just stock, but she's my personal breeder and I don't want her roughed up when I get to her," Henry said.

Ellis chuckled a little.

"Go get John now," he said. "Bring him here and I'll get him to personally take her and tie her in your room."

Henry smiled.

"I appreciate it," Henry said.

"Anything for a worker with as much dedication as you," Ellis said. "And I understand. If I were willing to do the work of breaking my own, I wouldn't want the zebra roughed up either. I'm just not willing to break them."

Henry nodded.

"I'm hoping that I don't have too much breaking to do," he said, "but we'll see. I'll go and get John and we'll have the rest of them ready to go before you know it."

Henry turned and disappeared then.

Carol let her head sink against the wall that was behind her. She wished she could say that she had any real clue about what was going on around her, and she wished that she could say that she had some plan to get out of this, but she really didn't know what was happening or what to expect.

When John appeared with Henry a few minutes later and heaved her to her feet, though, she was pretty sure that whatever was happening they weren't going to allow them to all stay together, thus lessening their ability to come up with a good escape plan.

The man named John had his hand clasped around the upper part of Carol's arm. She felt him thrust her forward to lead her away from where she was, presumably in the direction of an old farm house, and she glanced back over her shoulder to see her friends. Some looked calm and some looked terrified, and she wondered how many of them she'd ever see again.

John pushed her forward again and she almost stumbled, but he held strong, keeping her on her feet. She considered trying to break free from him and running, but she could tell by his grip that he was no weakling and with as many men as there were around, many of the visibly armed, she knew that she didn't stand a chance, especially given the fact that she had no idea where she was. She would just have to bide her time and hope that the opportunity for escape presented itself.

She took the deepest breath she could, stumbling toward the farmhouse with John behind her, and said a quiet prayer for herself, for the friends she was leaving behind her now, and for the ones that she hadn't seen and had no idea about their whereabouts.


	59. Chapter 59

Carol was willing herself, with everything inside her, not to freak out or lose her mind or anything like that. She needed to stay calm. It was easier, though, telling herself that than actually getting her body to obey. Her heart was pounding and she couldn't seem to get her breathing to slow down, no matter how much she tried. She knew she was on the verge of a panic attack, but that wasn't going to solve anything for anyone.

The man, John, had brought her to a room. The room was clean, though it had very little furniture in it. There was a dresser, a nightstand, and an old wooden bed that was neatly made and covered with quilts. John had led her to the bed and gently persuaded her to lie down. She complied, not knowing what else to do. He'd duct taped her hands to the headboard behind her head and he'd taped her feet together and secured them to footboard at the bottom.

Carol had no way of knowing what time it was or how long she'd been there. She tried not to think about what her friends were going through or what had become of the faces that weren't accounted for lying in the dirt outside. She had no idea what to expect for any of them or how she was going to get out of this situation.

The only thing that Carol could hear from her room was the creaking of boards outside the door. At some point, an old woman came into the room and Carol glanced in the direction of the door. She could see a man standing at the doorway, though she didn't even pretend at this point to know who he was. The old woman didn't say a word, she simply came into the room, left a pitcher of water beside a large bowl, and turned, shuffling out the door which closed behind her. All that Carol could notice was that the woman had been visibly abused and she felt the panic surging up in her again, threatening to make it impossible to breathe around her gag.

Some time later, the man she knew as Henry came through the door and uncontrollably she writhed against her restraints, fighting back the urge to cry. The young man stuck his head outside the door, mumbling something to someone out there, and came back in. Carol watched, her heart pounding in her chest as Henry slowly stripped out of his clothes, not paying her any attention. He bathed with the water out of the pitcher, scrubbing himself in silence, and then dressed in clean clothes, all the while not paying Carol any attention.

A few minutes later, the same old woman reappeared, and Henry traded out the bowl of water that he had and the pitcher for another that she was carrying. The old woman took the discarded pitcher and bowl and shuffled out silently.

Then Henry turned and focused his attention on Carol.

The young man stepped forward, and Carol studied him through the panic that was rising up in her. He was maybe thirty at best, and it was obvious that his skin was weather worn, possibly making him younger than even that. He was redheaded and blue eyed, and he smiled at her as he came to stand over her.

He didn't say anything at first, he just looked at her. She held as still as she could, her eyes focused on him, trying to anticipate whatever actions he might be thinking of performing. He crossed the room again, pouring some of the water out, and came back carrying a rag. She closed her eyes and felt the warm water on her face as he mopped at it, sucking his teeth a little.

"I asked them to be easy," he said. "But they're never easy when they go in for the snatch. Still, your head will heal."

He returned the rag to the bowl and came back to hover over Carol again.

"Can you breathe well with the gag?"

Carol shook her head.

"If I take it off will you start screaming? I don't like the screaming," Henry said.

Carol shook her head. Henry reached, then, and snatched the duct tape off of her mouth. She tried to hold back, but she couldn't avoid yelping at the act. She let her head drop back on the pillow, panting and grateful at least for being able to breathe through her mouth again.

Henry crossed the room again and took a short whip out of the top drawer. Carol closed her eyes for a second, trying not to think about what was probably coming. Henry came back a moment later, the whip in one hand and his knife in the other.

"If you misbehave," Henry said, "then I'll have punish you. I don't want to punish you. I'd much rather you behave from the start. If I cut your restraints, are you going to misbehave?"

Carol shook her head, afraid to answer him verbally. If he didn't like screaming, he might not like talking. Henry smiled again. He lifted his knife and Carol closed her eyes until she felt him cut away the duct tape that held her wrists together. She stayed frozen for a moment. He cut her feet apart next and then peeled the tape from her skin in both places. Carol stayed as still as possible, focusing on steadying her breathing more than anything.

"That's better, isn't it?" Henry asked.

Carol opened her eyes a slit and nodded at the man. Henry crossed the room again, opening the door and she saw him pass the knife out of it. Apparently they weren't going to give her a chance to get her hands on anything of use.

"You can move about," Henry said, "if you like. This is your home too, Adrienne."

Carol lie there for a minute, trying to process what was happening, and then she wondered if she was Adrienne. She shifted, slightly, mostly trying to get out of the position she'd been in since she was growing stiff. Henry watched her from across the room, but didn't protest to her movement. She was probably Adrienne.

"They've gone and gotten you dirty, and they shouldn't have done that," Henry said. "I told them I didn't want you roughed up, but I got you bath water, so you can wash off." He opened up one of the drawers and produced some clothes from it. "These are yours. You can put them on when you're clean. I didn't know for sure how big the baby would be, but there's plenty of room for him. There was a crib in the attic, so I'll clean that up. It'll be ready in a few days. We've got time, though, he won't be here in a few days, will he?"

Carol sat up, not really knowing what to do or say. She was fairly certain this man was psychotic…or at least that sounded like a good word for it, even though she wasn't positive that it meant what she thought it did.

Carol swallowed, realizing how dry her throat was. She shook her head, not knowing what other response was proper.

"Come on then, get your bath and get dressed so you can relax," Henry said.

He crossed the room towards Carol and she stood up, taking his place.

Carol realized, when Henry sat on the bed, that Adrienne had no problem undressing and bathing in front of Henry. He wasn't offering to look away. She turned her back to him, swallowing, and stripped out of her clothes, leaving her bra and underwear on. She held her breath, expecting him to protest, but none came. She washed as quickly as she dared and then picked up the pile of clothes, quickly getting dressed.

They were flannel pajamas. The shirt was a button down, red and white plaid shirt that was far too big for her, and the pants matched, but had a draw string so she could tie them to fit. They were actually quite comfortable, and had they been given to her under different circumstances, she would have thought they were a nice gift.

She turned around and stared at him when she was dressed. He was sitting in the same spot, smiling. He patted the bed beside him and she walked over to him, sitting on the bed. She wished she knew what was coming or at least what to expect, but right now she had no idea whatsoever.

Henry reached over, then, and spread his hand across her belly and Carol fought herself not to recoil from his touch. After a second he tugged at her shirt a little.

"Come on, let me see him, don't be shy about it, Adrienne. He's my son too," Henry said.

Carol sighed and pulled her shirt up, closing her eyes and wishing that the baby in her stomach wasn't responding to the probing of this strange man's hand.

"You're not eating enough, Adrienne, I've told you about that. You've got to treat him better. You've got to eat more. I'm going to get you dinner and you're going to eat all of it. You're being ridiculous about things and he doesn't need you mistreating him. I've told you before that we're all going to be fine, but if you keep acting like this then you're going to be the one to hurt him," Henry said, his voice growing annoyed.

Carol sat silently. She was bigger than she'd been with Sophia at this point in her pregnancy, so she wasn't sure what had triggered the crazy man, unless of course Adrienne was supposed to be farther along than she was.

"I'm sorry," she managed to get out.

Henry rubbed her back.

"I'll get you dinner," he said. "You'll eat it like you're supposed to and there won't be any reason to be sorry, right? You're going to stop this ridiculousness of not eating, aren't you?"

Carol nodded and rasped out a yes to pacify Henry. He smiled again.

"Good," he said. "Good girl, Adrienne. You'll see, everything's going to be fine."

Carol nodded, trying to force herself to smile at him.

Henry got up and started to the door, stopping to slide on the shoes that he'd shucked off earlier. He turned before he touched the knob.

"You're not going to do anything, are you? You're going to behave, right? You're over this silliness?" He asked.

Carol nodded.

"Because, Adrienne, you've got to stop being selfish. You've got to think of him. I'm going to take care of both of you, but if you hurt him then I'm going to tie you back up and keep you that way. I'm not letting you do that again," He said.

Carol shook her head.

"No," she said, resting her hand over her stomach. "I'm not hurting anybody."

"I'll be back, then, with your dinner. John is here. He'll help you if you need anything. Just relax until I get back, Adrienne. Then we'll have dinner," Henry said.

Carol nodded and watched as Henry disappeared out the door.

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Hell. That was where they were. They were in hell. Alice had been drug away from the rest of the crew after they'd all been rudimentarily branded and now she was in front of a man identified to her as Bill with her arms duct taped behind her back, despite the delicious pull it caused on the fresh brand on her upper shoulder. She was trying to piece together the details of this particular hell, but they hadn't all come together in her mind yet.

"You're a doctor?" The man asked.

Alice nodded, looking around the tent that she was currently standing in and trying for a moment to even figure out how she had ended up here. Her heat throbbed and she knew she'd been knocked out by blunt force, but that was all she had.

"What kind?" Bill asked.

"Whatever the hell kind you want me to be," Alice responded. Bill circled around her as though he were going to slap her. The younger man, the one who had drug her to the tent had been a fan of slapping. Bill didn't slap her, though, he just eyed her up and down.

"Ellis doesn't normally like to let the breeders do anything, but we lost our doctor," Bill said. "He won't hesitate to have you killed if you try anything."

"I get that," Alice said.

She didn't doubt the Ellis character would have her killed if she tried anything. She also knew that she was sure as shit going to try something…she just wasn't sure what yet. She needed to gather more information to try and test the boundaries. She needed to figure out where the others were and what was going on. She also needed to figure out how they were guarded and what would likely be the best method of trying to escape. She knew, though, from her stay with the Governor that her status as a doctor got her access to more information.

She was going to try something alright…she just had to figure out what.

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Henry brought plates of food and sat beside Carol on the bed while they ate, watching her. She was thankful that the food was good because she had the suspicion that she'd be forced to eat all of it. She wasn't entirely sure what kind of depressing play she'd landed in, but she was performing a part and right now the best she could do was hope to perform to Henry's expectations.

When she'd cleaned her plate, he'd scraped the rest of his food onto her plate and she'd eaten it too, though she was starting to feel like she'd vomit from being too full.

Henry cleared the plates, pushing them out the door. Carol sat on the side of the bed much like she'd been since he'd allowed her to move from her restraints. While he'd been gone getting the food, she'd realized there wasn't an escape from the room, at least not one she was going to survive. There was a guard outside the door, nothing she could use as a weapon, and nothing she could fashion into a weapon without alerting the guard. If she got the windows open, she realized it was a two story drop to the back of the house. She might survive the fall, but surviving and still being able to escape wasn't likely to be possible, and she didn't think that the baby would survive such a fall. She wasn't prepared to sacrifice her baby.

"Get comfortable," Henry said. "You look tense."

Carol eyed him. She scooted back on the bed and leaned against the headboard, trying to make herself appear to feel relaxed at the very least. Henry somewhat paced around the room, looking at her from every place that he stopped to stand a moment.

"Are your feet cold?" He asked. He smiled. "I know how your feet are usually cold." He crossed back to the dresser and came out of it with a pair of socks. He brought them to her and she accepted them. She wasn't really all that cold, but if Adrienne was cold natured she could be freezing if she needed to be. She pulled the socks on and watched as Henry sat near her feet. "Did you get enough to eat?"

She nodded, still avoiding speaking for the most part. She'd gotten more than enough to eat. In fact she really wished she hadn't nearly so much.

Henry smiled and reached up, rubbing her stomach. She tried her best to appear pleased with him instead of letting him know that his very touch, although not threatening in the slightest, made her want to vomit.

"See? See how much better you feel when you're not being foolish?" Henry asked.

She smiled and nodded. Better…yes, she felt just great right now. She was locked in a room with a madman and she absolutely no idea where her friends were or what special little life they'd found themselves living now. She felt sure that their experience was different than hers, and she wasn't sure if she was correct, but she thought she might have drawn the long straw this time.

Henry let his hand trail from her stomach, down her leg, and come to rest on her feet. He picked up her foot and started kneading it in his hands.

"You know, Adrienne, all this talk you've done about killing yourself…you've got to stop it. Things aren't as bad as they seem, you'll see. We're together, and our son is going to be healthy, and that's all that matters. I'm going to take care of you both. You've just got to behave," Henry said.

Carol decided to go out on a limb.

"You're right," she said. "I was just being foolish. I'm not going to be like that anymore."

Henry smiled at her, squeezing her calf.

"That's my girl," he said.

Carol wondered how far she could play him. She wondered if he would tell her anything about anyone. She didn't know much about how to introduce the others into the fantasy land that he was living in, though.

"I'm not feeling very well, though," Carol said. Henry's smile disappeared and he looked concerned. "I was wondering if you could get my doctor. She was with me earlier today. She wanted to talk to me, just to check on things…with the baby."

Henry raised an eyebrow a little, but he was still listening.

"She's a brunette, with short hair. Her name is Alice," Carol said.

"I don't know this doctor," Henry said.

"I just started seeing her," Carol said quickly. "She's very good. I really like her. She made me feel better about the baby. I was hoping I could talk to her, make sure that everything's OK. She…um…she has a tattoo. Around the top of her arm. Wire or something like that. It's a band."

Henry didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't look like he was totally rejecting the idea. Carol decided to press a little further.

"Please, Henry, don't you think you could find her? I really don't feel that well, and I know she'd be able to help me…and the baby," Carol said, smiling a little and rubbing her belly.

Henry thought about it a minute and then nodded.

"It's pretty late, Adrienne," Henry said. "You should be sleeping."

"I know, but I won't be able to sleep if I'm worried," she said. "I'd sleep a lot better if I could just see her and make sure everything was fine."

Henry nodded again.

"Fine, Adrienne. I'll find your doctor. Why don't you crawl under the cover, and try to rest while I'm gone? I'm sure that everything's going to be fine," Henry said.

He stood up and Carol nodded at him, lifting herself up enough to pull the quilts back from the bed and slide her feet under them. Henry waited until she lie down and then pulled them up around her.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

She nodded.

"Do you want me to get you another quilt?" He asked.

Carol shook her head.

"I'm fine," she said. "Thank you, Henry."

"Anything you need," Henry said. He leaned down and Carol felt him press his lips to her cheek. She held her breath for a moment. "I'll be back."

Carol nodded a little and waited while Henry left the room. As soon as the door was closed she sat up, feeling like she'd vomit just from shifting the contents of her stomach to lie down for that period of time. She sat against the headboard. She had absolutely no idea what to do or what she thought that Alice might be able to do in this situation, but at least if Henry brought her back they'd have some kind of chance of coming up with an idea. Two heads were better than one, and Alice might have a better idea than she did of what was going on outside of the room that she was currently trapped in.


	60. Chapter 60

**AN: OK, so as you can probably guess. Ellis warnings apply. There's really nothing too graphic here, but the warning still stands that things aren't 100% unicorns and rainbows here. **

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As Daryl came to, he felt like he was floating and being blinded all at the same time. He couldn't see anything but "bright" if bright was something that you could concretely see. He tried to move, but realized his arms were bound to his sides. As he started to focus and his vision wasn't as blurry as it had been, the bright he'd been seeing became distinguishable lights, though he wasn't positive at the moment where he was or how he came to be there.

"Easy, son," Daryl heard Hershel's voice say.

"Fuck is goin' on?" Daryl asked. "Why can't I fuckin' move?"

"There's two reasons for that," Hershel said. "The first being that I've got you bound in case in you turned, and the second being that I loaded you up on some of the best medication that Alice's supplies had to offer. As for what's going on, that's a question all on its own."

Hershel came into focus over Daryl then, and Daryl squinted at him a little.

"Fuck is goin' on?" He repeated, trying to remember whatever he could, but his mind was fairly blank.

"You were shot," Hershel said. "In the back. You were lucky that it didn't kill, you. The bullet passed through, but I had to do my best to patch up more injuries than I was comfortable with. You need to stay down, though, you're desperately low on blood and we don't exactly have a bank available."

"Who shot me?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know that," Hershel responded. "I would imagine it could have been a number of people."

Daryl slowly remembered that he had been down near the fences and he'd found Michonne's katana down there, but there had been no sign of Michonne.

"Michonne?" He asked. "Where is she?"

"I don't know that either, Daryl," Hershel said. "She's gone."

Daryl's head was swimming a little. He couldn't imagine anyone taking Michonne and shooting him. Suddenly he became worried about what else was going on that Hershel wasn't telling him about.

"The others?" Daryl asked.

"You just need to rest," Hershel said. Daryl immediately recognized those words as a way of saying that probably anything he could imagine that he didn't want to hear was what he would hear if he pressed the issue.

"What happened, Hershel?" Daryl growled.

"I don't know, Daryl," Hershel said. "I guess they gassed the prison, I don't know. We're I D Block now because earlier when we tried to go into C Block we couldn't stand to breathe and nearly passed out. When I came to from whatever happened I thought I was here alone. I found Carl and they left Judith in her crib. Later I found Brian in the tombs and it's a wonder he didn't get bit because he was unconscious, like we all were. We found you, shot, in the lower part of the field and I didn't think you were going to make it. I stayed with you and Brian went with the others after they got back from their run to try and figure out if they could find any evidence about where the others were taken."

Daryl struggled against his restraints a little.

"Let me up, damn it, Hershel!" Daryl said.

"Daryl, I wish you wouldn't move. If you rip open any of the work that I've done I don't know if I can stop the bleeding before you bleed out. I know you want to go after them, but you wouldn't have the strength to make it to the door before you passed out. It's dark out there now, but the four who went out looking aren't back. You're going to have to sit this one out," Hershel said.

"They can't track! They'll never find 'em," Daryl said.

"Daryl, they're going to find them, and we just have to be confident in that. You wouldn't be of any use to them right now as it is, son. I know you want to go out there, but you wouldn't make it," Hershel said. "You're going to have to rest. There's nothing else that we can do."

Daryl had no idea what was happening. As of right now he had no idea where everyone that was missing was. He didn't know what had happened or who had done it. And now Hershel had him restrained so that he couldn't try to help.

The pain from his injuries was beginning to become very apparent to him, and his head was still swimming. He knew, deep down, that there was nothing he could do right now even if he was free from his restraints, but it didn't stop him mentally from wanting to fly up from where he was and go after them. He didn't know if anyone was OK…but that also meant that he didn't know if Carol was OK.

"I'm going to give you some more medication," Hershel said. "At least it'll keep you calm. That's the best we can do for the moment."

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Carol heard footsteps outside the door and the low rumble of voices. She quickly slid back into the bed, pulling the cover over her so that Henry wouldn't protest that she wasn't resting the way that he thought was proper.

The door opened and Henry passed through it. A moment later, Alice came in, looking somewhat battered. There was a trail of blood from the corner of her mouth, but she didn't appear to notice it.

"I kind of need my fuckin' hands," Alice said. Henry pushed her forward, toward the bed and then stopped her, cutting the duct tape binds from her wrists. Alice turned when he was done. "Can we have some privacy?" She asked.

Henry looked at her and crossed the room quickly, leaning down and rubbing Carol's face. She held her breath and tried to force a smile.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" He asked.

Carol nodded.

"Just for a bit," she said, smiling at him. He nodded.

"I'll be outside if you want me," Henry said. Carol smiled again and nodded. Henry left the room, closing the door behind him. Alice stood there a second, rubbing her wrists.

"Boy is he a fuckin' nut job," she mumbled.

Carol sat up in the bed.

"Where are the others?" She whispered. "Have you seen them? What about the men? What did they do with them? Have you seen Daryl?"

Alice just stood there, shaking her head. She crossed the room and sat near Carol, leaning in so that they could whisper without any concern of being heard.

"I haven't seen anyone," Alice said, "not since the branding."

"Branding?" Carol asked, her eyes growing wide. Alice nodded.

"They call it tagging, but it's some coat hanger branding shit is what the hell it is," Alice said. "Anyway, don't worry about that. Listen, I don't know where anyone is. I haven't seen a single man from the prison. None. No one. Nada."

"But do they have them or do you think they're coming?" Carol hissed.

Alice shook her head.

"I don't know, I don't know much at all," Alice said. "They could all be dead or they could be just outside getting ready to bust down the damn door for all I know, Carol."

Carol could feel the tears welling up now that she'd been swallowing down. She'd told herself that they were getting out of this. Somehow all of them were getting out of this. The men weren't with them outside, so she's convinced herself that somehow they'd escaped and soon they'd all swoop in and save them. She'd been half expecting Daryl to bust through the door and tell her they were going home. Now she wasn't so sure that anyone was coming, and she wasn't so sure they were getting out of this.

"Don't cry," Alice said.

"I'm sorry," Carol said, trying to suck back the tears. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to figure this shit out, that's what we're going to do," Alice said. "We don't need the men, Carol. We're intelligent women and some damn where there's a lot more intelligent women, and we're going to get the fuck out of here. I think they've got me apart from everyone else. I told them I'm a doctor. So they've got me in some kind of barn not too far from here. I'm with like four ancient women and about six kids that are probably going to die before night is over. I hope to hell you don't really need anything from me because apparently doctor and faith healer are fucking synonymous here."

Carol shook her head.

"I'm fine, except for I'm kind of stuck with a crazy person," Carol said.

Alice nodded.

"I noticed that, but the good news is that you're stuck with a crazy person who is very interested in your baby. He's fucking insane over this kid, actually, and we're going to use that shit. I need more time to try and figure out what the fuck is going on and it's black as hell out there right now. As hard as it might be, I need you to sleep on this shit. I'm going to tell him that you're OK, but that the baby's in some kind of delicate condition. He shouldn't do anything you don't want him too, and he should get me again in the morning to check on things. Hold him off for just a bit in the morning and then send him after me. I'll see if I can't figure something out," Alice said.

"So I'm just supposed to sleep with this man?" Carol asked. It horrified her to think that this was the plan that they had so far. She was just supposed to camp out with the crazy man. Alice was in a barn with people likely to die. They didn't know where the men were, and they didn't know where the rest of the women were.

"Listen," Alice said, "you're safe with him. As hard as that seems to imagine, you're safe with him. Keep placating him with the baby. Remember that's all he's in this for right now. We're getting the fuck out of here. We'll save the men's asses later, OK?"

"Daryl will come," Carol said. "He got us away from the Governor."

Alice nodded.

"You're right, I'm sure he's coming," she said, "but I tell you what…why don't we try to meet him on the road? OK? I don't know how everyone else is holding up, but I think that the sooner we get the fuck out of here, the better."

Carol could agree with that. She nodded.

"OK," Carol said. "Then tomorrow morning I'll send him after you."

"Good deal," Alice said. "Just remember, it's all about the baby. Get some sleep. We may have a hell of a day tomorrow."

Carol nodded and watched as Alice crossed the room quickly and knocked at the door. Henry opened the door and let Alice out, closing the door behind her. Carol could hear the muffled conversation. She worked again at steadying her breathing. She'd managed to keep pushing her worry out of her mind, but now it was invading. She tried to repeat a calming mantra to herself. They were all going to be fine. The men were all out there and Daryl was going to find her soon. They probably wouldn't even make it through the night here.

Henry came in a few minutes later and crossed the room, frowning at Carol and carrying an extra lamp to add to the light that the single lamp burning in the room already spilled over the area. He put the lamp down on the bedside table and leaned over her, brushing her hair back and kissing her forehead.

"You need to lie down," he said. "It's late and you need to rest. You've been overdoing it and the baby needs the rest."

Carol nodded, quickly slipping under the cover. Henry blew out the first lamp and then crossed around the room, blowing out the second. Carol turned on her side, and tried not to panic when she felt the shifting of the bed in the blackness.

Henry wasn't doing anything to panic about, though. He was going to sleep. The only touch that Carol felt, once he'd crawled into the bed, was his hand reaching out and patting her shoulder. She tried not to flinch against it. He raked his fingers gently around her back for a second and then patted her shoulder again.

"Go to sleep," he said. "You'll feel better after you've rested."

Carol lie there, in the darkness, and wondered if she'd fall asleep. She wondered if it was possible to will her nerves to calm enough to let her go to sleep. She could probably sleep safely, as Alice had said, but she didn't know if her brain could get her heart to understand that.

She closed her eyes and focused on breathing. If something were to happen the next day, she'd be thankful for whatever rest she was able to get. When she closed her eyes, though, it seemed that her mind only produced for her horrific images. They were things she didn't even know that she was capable of thinking of, and now her brain was bombarding her.

She hoped that this was some kind of nightmare, and that she'd wake up in the morning, somehow, safely in her cell with Daryl.

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Michonne had never been one to think about things like how she might die too often. That had always been a type of unnecessary morbidity in her opinion. She'd been, a time or two since all this happened, in situations where she imagined she might die, but she hadn't let herself dwell on it too much.

At the moment, though, she was starting to think that she was fairly certain of how it was going to happen, and she had never in her wildest dreams wanted it to happen this way.

She was lying in the mud…the cold mud. She was grateful that at least she still retained all her clothing. That at least meant that she'd been spared some of the shame that she was sure the assholes here could have inflicted upon her.

When she'd woken up, she'd felt like she had a massive hangover, but she hadn't exactly been drunk. She'd been making the rounds in the prison yard, checking over everything like she'd done a million times before, and then the world had gone black. She thought she could remember, maybe, some kind of pain or indication that something might have happened, but she really wasn't sure. She felt like there hadn't been any warning. And then she'd woken up and she was tied, just as she was now, to a post in God knows where.

She really didn't have much to go on as far as location was concerned. She was tied to a post, and she was lying in cold mud. She wasn't exactly inside, and she wasn't exactly outside. At best she was in some kind of really poorly built shed or something.

They'd taken her katana and anything else that she might have used, besides her own body, as a weapon. There had been four men. The "game" for lack of a better term that they'd played with her for what seemed like a few days, wasn't a very fun game for her. She'd never imagined being treated like an animal in her life, but today she'd learned what that meant.

They'd tried to fight with her. They'd tried to convince her that she wanted to fight with them. She did want to fight with them, but not the way they wanted to fight with her. At first she just wanted to get away from them, so she'd fought for freedom. Then, she realized that she wasn't escaping. There were too many of them and in her unconscious state they'd bound her arms and legs so well that each of them had a rope and essentially had turned her into a human marionette of sorts. They'd let her get close enough to start fighting with someone before she was ripped back or her legs left the ground, tossing her into the mud. Eventually she'd wanted to kill them all, more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life, but that wasn't happening either.

And when they'd had their fun or the game was through, or whatever it was that drew it to an end, they'd tied her to the post again, all the other ropes intact, and they'd left her there.

She'd worked at the ropes for a while, but now she was beginning to give up from sheer exhaustion. She wasn't making progress on the ropes and all she was doing was managing to tear the skin from her arms.

She imagined, although somewhat morbidly, that either they would return and continue the game, eventually exhausting her to death, or they'd kill her out of boredom when she could no longer play with them.

She'd never thought about it before, but now she was fairly certain that she was figuring out exactly how she would die. She never thought, until now, that she would have preferred a nice death by Walker, but it was sounding a lot more peaceful than continuing down this path.

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When Carol woke up, she didn't realize immediately where she was. She'd forgotten, while she slept, that she was caught up in something that she didn't understand at all. As soon as she opened her eyes, though, she was reminded that she wasn't in her bed in the cell and that Daryl wasn't with her.

She sat up as quickly as possible, her eyes searching for Henry. He was gone, though, and she was alone in the room.

She got up, realizing that her bladder would explode if she didn't use the bathroom soon. She quickly figured out, though, that their facilities were less than desirable, but necessity dictated what it would.

She wandered around the room after that, trying to figure out what to do. She was antsy and she might lose her mind if there wasn't any progress toward escape. Henry was gone, she had no way of getting in touch with Alice at the moment, and she didn't know if Daryl or anyone else was coming. For a moment she was beginning to lose hope that she wouldn't be trapped there, living out some sick and twisted fantasy of a crazy man for the rest of her life.

Just as she was beginning to peer out the window again, contemplating the severity of the jump, Henry opened the door and came in with two plates.

"I don't have much time," he said. "Ellis doesn't like to give days off when we've got so much that needs to be done. He did excuse me to have breakfast with you, though, so that I can make sure you're behaving and eating as you should be. I'll keep my friend outside informed to find me if you need me, and he'll be glad to help you with whatever you need until I'm off work."

Carol paused, near the window she'd been looking out of her, her hand resting on the wall so as to not draw attention to the fact that she'd been considering taking up sky diving as a new hobby.

"Adrienne, come here and eat," Henry said. "I told you I don't have much time."

Carol nodded and walked around, sitting where he indicated. She took her plate, really not wanting the food, and watched as he began to shovel food into his mouth.

"The doctor wanted to see me again this morning," Carol said. "She wants to check on the baby. I'm still not feeling very well. Do you think that you can send her when you leave?"

Henry narrowed his eyebrows at her.

"You're still not doing good?" He asked.

Carol shook her head.

"No, I don't feel well at all, but I'm sure she'll be able to help. She said she could if you brought her this morning," Carol said.

Henry nodded after a moment and continued eating.

"I'll get her as soon as we finish breakfast. You need to eat. You probably don't feel well because you're not eating enough. That's what happens when you start acting foolish and deciding you're going to starve yourself. Look how much weight you've lost!" Henry said.

"I'm sorry," Carol said. "I didn't mean to do it."

She began obediently eating her breakfast, watching Henry as she did so.

"I promise I'm trying to do better," she said. "That's why I want you to bring the doctor. She'll help me get back on track."

Carol didn't know if she'd ever know what happened with Adrienne or not, but she was beginning to think she didn't want to know what had driven Henry mad. The funny thing was that even though she thought he was stark raving insane, part of her didn't think he was a bad man. Maybe something had happened when everything went nuts. Maybe he just didn't make it through all of this with his sanity. She wondered if, before he'd lost his mind, he might have even been a halfway decent person.

"You're doing much better," Henry assured her. "I didn't mean to yell. You're going to rest and eat your food. You'll see. It's all going to be fine."

Carol nodded, eating the food as quickly as she could in hopes of getting him out of here and getting Alice back with a plan or some news from the outside. When she'd finished the food, Henry had insisted on wiping her mouth with a handkerchief when he'd taken her plate. She allowed it, not wanting to annoy him. He'd mad her expose her belly for him and he'd rubbed it while she pretended that she was just as thrilled as he was at how much better things were going to be than what they had been.

He'd finally left, assuring her that she just needed to rest and the doctor would be there shortly.

Carol had tried to rest, but she was actually beginning to feel claustrophobic in the room. She wrestled one of the windows open a bit and hung her face out to get some air.

Alice had been led in, finally, looking exhausted but really no worse for the wear than the night before.

"Anything? Anyone?" Carol asked, crossing the room when the door was closed.

Alice nodded a little.

"I've seen some things," she said. "Let's just say that there's no need to panic. You're getting out of here."

"What do you mean? What's going on?" Carol asked.

Alice shook her head a little.

"Sit down," she said, pointing to the bed. Carol could feel a lump in her throat and her stomach churned. They were all going to die. Daryl was dead. He wasn't coming. Everyone was dead or dying. She would die too, just as soon as this Henry guy had what he wanted. The whole thing turned into a puddle of terrible fears. "Calm down," Alice said, apparently reading the worry on her face. "You're getting the fuck out of here, but you've got to listen to me because we've got to fucking do this shit in a very specific manner."

"OK," Carol said, trying to calm herself and believe that Alice was right and somehow she was making it out of her.

"I've seen some of the others. Daryl and the other men are waiting in the woods. They know what we're going to do. I'm getting everyone out of her in waves, OK?" Alice said.

"Wait," Carol said, her eyes growing big. "You saw Daryl? You saw the others?"

Alice nodded.

"Why isn't Daryl coming?" Carol asked.

"Because we're doing this differently to make sure more people get out without getting hurt, OK? You've got to focus here," Alice said.

Carol nodded. She couldn't understand why Daryl wasn't there yet, but she also wasn't sure what it looked like out there. Depending on where everyone was and what condition they were in, it might not be beneficial to come in guns blazing. At least, though, they were there and there was a plan.

"OK," Alice said. "When I leave here, I want you to wait about an hour or so. Then I want you to be in the most excruciating pain of your life. You understand? You've never felt pain like this before. You need to insist that they get me and my nurse. My nurse is the samurai, got it?"

"Michonne is your nurse?" Carol asked.

"Work with me, Carol. I've seen her. She's going out with you," Alice said.

"What about everyone else?" Carol asked.

"They're coming later. You and the samurai are going first. So you need to insist that you have to have us both to help you. You're going to die, the baby's going to explode, everything in your world is going to end in a puddle of pain and misery if you don't get us to help you, got me? You're trying to beat Meryl for the fucking Oscar," Alice said.

Carol wasn't sure about her acting abilities, but she was terrified enough of the whole situation that she thought she could wrestle together a convincing enough performance.

"When they bring us, I'm going to tell them that we need to take you to my tent where they've got me set up now. When we exit the house, there's a wooded area that will be on your left. You walk with me until I tell you to go. There are limited guards in that area. When I tell you to go, you and the samurai are both going to run for it," Alice said.

"What about you? Aren't you running?" Carol asked.

"Not yet," Alice said, shaking her head. "That's not part of the plan. When I tell you to go, you just go. Don't look back for anything. Not for me, not for the samurai, nothing. Just run into the woods and keep going."

"What about Daryl and the others?" Carol asked. She wondered if she could run fast enough for this plan. She didn't know where they were, and she didn't know where she'd be going. She didn't even have a weapon to kill any Walkers she might encounter.

"Daryl's going to get to you," Alice said. "You just keep running, though. If you stop or look back for even a second then you blow the entire thing, you understand? You run for yourself and you run for this baby, but you just keep fucking running like Forrest fucking Gump until Daryl catches up to you and stops you. Understand?"

Carol nodded. She wasn't sure that she liked this plan. It sounded like there was a lot of gray area. There was certainly a lot that she didn't understand. Still, if this was what they had, it was all that they had. She supposed it trumped her plan of jumping out of the window and trying to escape that way.

"About an hour," Alice said. "Then you can start the performance. Try to rest until then, you're going to need your energy."

Carol nodded and sat down on the bed. She watched as Alice disappeared through the door again. She was absolutely terrified, but she felt a little better knowing that they were at least trying to get out of her and that Alice had seen Daryl. If he said he was waiting for her and he'd come after her, then she supposed that she could run to him.

Carol lie back on the bed, focusing on keeping track of the time in her mind and trying not to focus on frightened she was by what was coming later. She just had to rest for now and get ready for her Oscar winning performance.


	61. Chapter 61

Carol had never considered herself to be an actress. It wasn't her strong point exactly, but she'd worked up everything she could and channeled all the pain she'd ever felt in her life to convince the man at the door that she was on the verge of death…sudden death even…if he didn't get Alice and Michonne for her.

And somehow it had worked. She wasn't sure if she was really that good or if he was that gullible, but it had worked. When he'd brought them in, Alice had looked much like she had that morning, but Carol hadn't been prepared exactly for Michonne to look the way she did. She tried, though, not to break her performance, sure she'd get an explanation eventually for what had happened.

As promised, Alice negotiated with the man outside while Carol tried to keep her performance going well enough to convince him that her only hope was to be moved. When he'd finally agreed, she'd allowed Alice and Michonne to pretend to support her as they made their way down the stairs and out the farm house. As the crossed across the lawn, Carol took in more of her surroundings than she had been in the mind to take in when she'd first arrived. They were on a farm with two barns, but other than that there were a number of small rickety built buildings and the same RVs and tents that she remembered.

As they started across a field toward the tents, Carol saw the wooded area to her left that Alice had mentioned and her heart pounded at the thought that escape was near. She kept up her screaming as they walked, and then finally she felt Alice shove her and growl "Go".

Carol didn't think about it any further. She took off at the fastest sprint that she could muster, running straight for the wooded area. Her heart pounded in her ears and she worried about how long she'd be able to keep up the pace. She expected, at any moment, to be taken down by some man that had been loitering around the property or to be shot or something, but none of it came as she streaked across the field.

She heard noises behind her as she hit the straw covered underbrush of the woods, but she remembered not to look back and she pushed herself forward, even though her body was already screaming its protests against her decision to run like there was no tomorrow. She kept telling herself that if she didn't run, there very likely would be no tomorrow, and somehow she found the ability to keep pushing her protesting muscles.

Carol pushed forward, panting and groaning at her own pain. She didn't know how far or how long she'd been running, but she was beginning to fear that she wasn't going to make it far enough. She kept going, though, falling once over a log or something that had been hidden in the thick undergrowth. She pulled herself up as quickly as possible, and kept going.

Out of luck or the grace of God, she'd seen few Walkers and the ones she had seen she'd managed to dodge. Either she hadn't held their interest for too long, or she'd simply outrun them, though she was afraid to turn around for fear that she'd see she was leading some kind of troop of them behind her.

Finally, though, she knew she couldn't continue. Her heart and lungs were about to explode out of her body. She was on the verge of vomiting and despite her efforts to run, she realized she was moving no faster than if she'd been walking. Daryl hadn't come for her. No one had come for her. She pushed herself forward, now abandoning the running, and glanced only a moment behind her. She could see nothing around her but woods.

She knew that the line she'd made hadn't been straight. She'd veered right and left so many times that tracing the way back to where she'd been would have been impossible for her. She was alone. She didn't see any Walkers, which was good, but she didn't see anyone else either. There was no Daryl and there wasn't even Michonne.

Carol couldn't believe for a moment that she'd outrun Michonne. Michonne was in much better condition than her, despite her somewhat ragged appearance of the morning, and she wasn't pregnant. Michonne hadn't come with her…that was the only explanation that Carol could offer herself. She trailed through the woods, unsure of what to do. She knew only to keep her back to where she'd been and keep going. She didn't know where she was. She had no hope of finding anyone and she doubted that she'd ever find the prison, even if she were to emerge from the wooded area.

Suddenly she felt desperate and overwhelmed. She'd escaped. Alice had lied to her, and Michonne had too, but she'd escaped. Except now it felt like it was essentially worthless anyway. She was unarmed, lost in the woods, and alone. No one was with her and no one was looking for her. She'd escaped only to die alone in the woods.

There was no reason to fight her emotion any longer and there was no reason to keep running. Carol started looking around her in the brushy area, determined if nothing else to find herself a weapon. She couldn't outrun Walkers any longer. If she had to run at this point she'd just give up and die because her body had nothing left to give. She found, finally, a stick that proved to be somewhat pointed and seemed sturdy enough to hopefully stab a Walker if the need arose.

She chuckled at the absurdity of her situation. She was reduced, now, to hoping that semi pointed stick could save her life. She kept going, though, slowly, in hopes that she would eventually figure out what to do about her sad situation.

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"I gotta go, Hershel," Daryl protested. He'd woken up this morning with the pain worse than it had been, but his mind clearer. His mind, in fact, was making him desperate to get up, despite the pain. "Hershel, I can track them. Rick, the others, they can't track them. You've got to let me go if anyone is going to find them."

For a moment Daryl was desperate enough that if he could have reached the restraints with his teeth he would have tried to gnaw through them. He couldn't bring himself to accept the fact that he was just supposed to lie there, keeping some kind of vigil with Hershel while Carol could be suffering.

"Maggie, Hershel," Daryl argued, "Beth. I could find them, I could bring them back."

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, Daryl," Hershel said. "I want you out there as much as you want to be out there, but the fact of the matter is that you won't make it. You wouldn't make it out of the prison yard. You've got to have confidence that the others can do this, Daryl."

Daryl wanted to have confidence in the others, and in a lot of things he did, but this was a desperate situation and he would have felt better to be out there helping at least instead of tied down, feeling like his body was on fire but his mind wouldn't even let him have the peace that death might bring.

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Michonne ran, dodging Walkers and slipping through the thick undergrowth, until she was exhausted. She slowed a little, starting to look around her and trying to figure out exactly what phase two of this plan was going to be. They hadn't gotten that far, mostly because when Alice first found her in the mud, they didn't really believe that anyone was getting to phase two. It was a longshot at best.

Now, though, she'd done what she was supposed to do. She'd run slower than Carol, behind her until they hit the cover of the woods, and then she'd lingered just long enough to make sure she was spotted before veering off in the opposite direction of Carol's flight. Bait and switch.

Michonne figured she had less to lose in this anyway. She was going to die wallowing in the mud or she was going to die running through the woods, caught by some guard that hadn't given up the chase yet…either way the end result would be the same and she'd rather go running. That was the thing with plans like this one, it was more about choosing how you would rather die instead of really actually believing you were going to live.

Now Michonne wasn't so sure she was going to die, though. She leaned against a tree for a moment, panting. If there was anyone behind her, they were stealthy enough that she hadn't heard them for quite some time. She had no idea where Carol was now or if she'd make it, but much like Michonne at this point, she was on her own.

Michonne chuckled to herself a little. She'd done enough dodging and weaving of Walkers so far that she was now positive she could have been a professional football player if she'd been given the chance. She didn't need to worry about the tackles, she just needed to pretend that the entire other team was made up of hungry Walkers.

She wandered, now at a much slower pace, through the woods, picking her way along and wondering how long it would be before she came out somewhere, and if she would have any idea where she was. She didn't really know if she should return to the prison or not. She wasn't positive what she would find there, but at least she could get supplies, maybe rest for the night, and she could perhaps find her katana. That was what she most needed at the moment.

She hated to admit that she was beginning to think that she was alone again. She'd settled into this group, decided to care about the others, and now she had the feeling that everyone was either dead or dying. Even if she returned, katana in hand, to the place they'd been, she wasn't sure she could save anyone. The place was simply a hell in which they'd gone to die.

Michonne jumped a little at the sound of something in the woods cracking a sizeable branch. She didn't have a weapon, but she scrambled around to find a stick, hoping that it was just a Walker. She was too tired to run, but she could kill it if she got the chance, she wasn't afraid of the Walkers. It was people that she didn't want to encounter.

Slowly, crashing through the area to her left, though, came a figure that she doubted she was really seeing. She rubbed her eyes a moment, wondering if it was really there or if her imagination was being cruel like it had in the earlier days of all of this madness. The figure stopped, though, staring at her with the same discerning look, and three other figures appeared behind it, all stepping out of her imagination.

"Tell me I'm not seeing things," Michonne said, fighting back the urge to cry or smile or do both until she was surer of her own mental state.

"I can't…I might be seeing things too," the figure responded, smiling.

Michonne let herself smile then and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Rick who enveloped her in a hug like they'd never shared before. Michonne wasn't as touchy feely as some in the prison, but this moment she wanted to sink into the arms of a familiar face.

When she pulled away, she took in the forms of Glenn, Brian, and Jacob. Rick pulled her katana from over his shoulder and handed it to her, squeezing her shoulder gently as she took it from him.

"You dropped this," he said.

"I was going back to get it," she responded.

They all stood a moment longer. Michonne knew that they were smiling because they'd found her, and perhaps they took her as a sign that they were on the right path. They were headed in the right direction to save everyone. She realized, though, that they may be the only ones left. Leading them back now was likely to be just another suicide mission.

"Where is everyone?" Rick asked.

Michonne shrugged a little.

"Since I came to, I've only seen Alice and Carol," she said.

"Where are they?" Rick asked.

Michonne gestured in the direction that she imagined Carol had run in.

"Carol's out there, somewhere," she said.

"And Alice?" Rick asked.

"Probably dead," Michonne said. "Or if she isn't, she wishes she was."

Rick looked struck by the news. Michonne didn't know if he expected some happy news out of this, but he hadn't been there and he hadn't seen any of it. She'd only seen really what had happened in her corral, but she could only shudder to imagine what the others had gone through.

"Where's Tyreese?" She asked.

Rick shrugged a little.

"I thought you would know that. He wasn't at the prison," Rick responded.

"And Daryl?" Michonne asked.

Rick's countenance changed and something behind his eyes told her before he even said it, that this wasn't going to be joyful news.

"Possibly dead," Rick said. "He got shot and he's at the prison, but it didn't look good."

Michonne nodded her head a little, unsure of exactly what to do or say. Finally, she sighed.

"I guess it's time to go, then," she said.

"Where are we going?" Rick asked.

Michonne turned around and headed back in the direction she came from.

"Hell," she said. "Let's go see what's left of the others."

Without saying anything, she heard the small group crashing after her and she wondered if they had any idea what she was leading them into.

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It was getting later. Even though Carol had stayed to the wooded area, walking along, she knew it was getting later. It was getting a little darker. She tried not to focus on the fact that she was thirsty, and she was hungry. She hadn't seen anything she thought she could eat and she hadn't tripped across a stream or creek yet. She'd drink the water, dirty or not, at this point. Her vision kept blurring and a few times she supported herself against one tree or another for a second until she'd regained composure. She didn't want to just black out in the middle of the woods and get eaten by a Walker, but she was beginning to think it was going to happen regardless of her desire for things to go otherwise.

Carol heard something around her in the woods and her heart leaped for a second. Immediately her brain told her it would be Daryl, but then she got the sinking feeling that it wasn't followed immediately by the cold fear of what it could be.

Her pointed stick, amazingly, had served so far as a decent Walker killing tool, so her concern over Walkers at the moment was minimal. She was really more afraid of having gone in some kind of colossal loop and ending up back at the place from which she'd come. She was afraid of running into some kind of guard or even of Henry himself.

Carol heard the noise again and panicked she began to run in the opposite direction of the noise as best she could. The pain in her head was searing now, and she was so tired that she wondered if her run resembled a run at all now. She glanced up from watching where she was going so that she didn't fall over anymore stumps and logs, afraid she might not get back up, and saw a Walker in front of her. She willed herself to step to the side, hoping to dodge the thing, only she realized it wasn't a Walker. She turned quickly, trying to get away from the figure, and felt the blackness that had been threatening her wrap around her finally.

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When Carol woke up it was dark around her except for the faint flicker of an oil lamp. She was in a room somewhere that smelled like old potpourri and moth balls and she was uncomfortable. She was in a bed of sorts, but she could feel the mattress she was lying on sagging beneath her and hard wooden slats that were discernable through the scant padding of the mattress. She was covered with a blanket and upon testing it she could tell that her hands and feet were bound. This was nothing unusual anymore, and she fought the urge to sob.

She rolled her head to the side. This wasn't the same room that she'd been in before. It was much smaller and the door she could see was open. She wondered if she should call for help or if she's just be summoning her own torture.

Before she really had much of a choice in the matter, though, a younger woman appeared at the door and came in, leaning over her a little in the lamplight.

"You're awake," the woman said. "I was starting to think you might not come back."

Carol fought against her restraints, not saying anything for the moment.

"Don't do that," the woman said, shaking her head. "You're going to hurt yourself. I'll take them off, but only if you're going to calm down."

Carol felt it all welling up inside of her. She didn't want to calm down for anyone. She didn't want to behave for anyone. The only thing that she wanted was to be free and to be back at the prison. She wanted to be in bed with Daryl right now. She wanted to know that when she woke up it was all a wretched dream and she was going to make breakfast with the others as they discussed what needed to be done for winter.

She'd gotten loose, and now they had her again. What crazy person did she belong to now? Carol didn't feel like she could stand it any longer.

"Let me go!" She cried out. "Leave me alone! We didn't do anything to you! None of you! You don't have the right to do this!"

The young woman grew wide eyed. She backed up from where she was and went to the door.

"Wyatt! You better get in here! She's alive but she's stark raving mad!" The woman called out the door.

"I am not crazy!" Carol yelled. "You're the crazy ones!" She pulled against the restraints again, but she didn't have the energy to budge them at all before she fell back against the lumpy, thin mattress. "I'm not crazy," she said to herself, trying not to start crying.

An old man came to the door a few minutes later carrying a jar in one hand. He was eating something out of the jar.

"Wyatt ain't here right now," the old man said. "Gone out to run trot lines."

The old man stepped forward then and looked at Carol.

"You reckon she's wild?" He asked.

"Don't know if she's wild, but she's crazy," the woman said.

The old man leaned over Carol. He smelled like pipe tobacco and something sweet. He had a long white beard and his eyes shined with the light from the lamp. He continued to eat out of the jar and she watched him. She heard her stomach growl. She was miserably hungry and thirsty and although she wouldn't say it, her body had a mind of its own. He put the jar down, slid a chair out of the corner beside her, sat, and pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket, flicking it open. Carol flinched, waiting to see if he was going to do something. He cut the end of off the piece of food that he was holding, which she had identified to probably be some kind of fruit.

"There…" he said softly. "Cut the part I bit off, ya can see that. Open ya mouth and I'll give it to ya, but don't ya bite me, how's that?"

Carol didn't know why, but the old man was calming. For whatever reason her nerves responded to him and granted her a little calm, which intensified the hunger and the fatigue that she felt. She took a chance and opened her mouth. The old man eased the piece of fruit into her mouth and she was careful not to bite him, as he requested.

She chewed the fruit, identifying it quickly as a pear, and without permission her stomach growled out, fiercely again. The old man chuckled, plucking another piece of pear from the jar. He held it up.

"Now ya gonna bite this one in half and then I'm gonna give ya the other, OK? No choking," he said.

Carol accepted both bites of the pear slice, almost feeling moved to tears by the taste of the fruit and also by the feeling of the juice on her dry throat.

"Ain't no wonder she's mad, Imogene, the old man said. She'd damn near famished. Bring me some of that stew we had from supper and if you see Wyatt, tell him to keep it down and don't go stomping about," the old man said.

"How's she gonna eat stew? She's too crazy to untie," Imogene said.

The old man chuckled again.

"Then I reckon I'll feed her. I fed you when you couldn't feed yaself, and I fed Wyatt. Ain't no different, really," the old man said.

"I'm not wild," Carol said, when Imogene had left the room. The old man offered her some more pears and she accepted the slice. She chewed it and swallowed it quickly.

"They ain't bad pears, are they? Not for a couple of old trees we ain't never done nothin' with except pick the fruit. A little grainy, maybe, but they eat OK," the old man said.

"I'm not wild," Carol repeated. "I just want to go home…" She couldn't help but sob then and the old man looked at her.

"Stop ya cryin' now," the old man said. "Where's home? 'Cause when Wyatt found ya it was in the woods and that ain't no good home for a lady, especially not one in your condition."

Imogene reappeared with a bowl and a spoon and the old man took it, immediately moving as though he were going to feed Carol. She would suffer the indignity of it if she had to, but she'd rather feed herself.

"Please," she said, "untie me. I'm not going to run away."

The man put the bowl down, fishing the pocket knife back out of his pocket. He chuckled a little.

"Wouldn't worry too much about you running away," he said. "Wouldn't get far. Just don't want ya to hurt yourself or that baby. You're a guest here, nothing more."

Carol waited while he cut her hands free and she immediately started rubbing at her wrists, trying to get the sensation back in her hands.

"My feet? Please?" She asked.

The old man moved from his chair and cut her feet free. She immediately tried to slide, the mattress shifting around her as she moved. Everything in her body ached to the point that she struggled not to cry out against her own muscles. When she'd wrestled her way to mostly sitting, the old man offered her the bowl.

"Where's home?" He asked.

Carol tasted the stew and had to work against herself not to just turn the bowl up and gulp the contents down like the wild animal they'd thought she might be.

"The prison," Carol said, coming up for air for a second.

"Easy now," the old man said. "Don't get too excited and make yourself sick. Part of the fun of eating a good fresh stew is keeping it down."

Carol nodded and tried to slow her pace a little more.

"The prison you said?" The old man asked. "That's home?"

Carol nodded. The warm stew was hitting the grumbling hole that was probably all that was left of her stomach now and she almost sighed with the feeling of it.

"We live there. I need to get back there," she said. "Please, I just want to go back." She begged.

The old man chuckled.

"I told you you're a guest here, lady," he said. "We don't aim to keep ya if ya don't have a mind to stay. Do ya got a name?"

"Carol," Carol said.

"I'm Ned," the old man said. "This is my house. Has been for near forty years, I reckon. My grandchildren Imogene and Wyatt are with me now. Everyone else has passed."

"I'm sorry," Carol said.

"Don't be," Ned said. "Happens to us all. That stew good?"

Carol nodded, finishing the bowl.

"Want some more?" He asked.

Carol considered it, but shook her head. She didn't want to be greedy, especially if this wasn't some kind of trap and these were honest people.

"Think you could keep down some water too?" Ned asked.

The broth had helped her parched throat a lot, but the thought of water was exciting too. Carol nodded.

"Imogene, could you bring a jar of water in here?" Ned called.

"Now I don't know exactly where this prison is," Ned said, "but Wyatt is apt to know. I'll ask him when he gets back. It's too late to travel tonight, but why don't you try to rest some now that we've got something in you and tomorrow we'll take you and find your prison?"

Carol nodded.

"Are you really going to take me back?" She asked. She didn't know that she believed this wasn't a trap, but for some reason, she felt like the old man wouldn't lie if she asked him the question directly. Imogene passed into the room, gave him the jar of water, and then passed out again without saying anything. He offered it to Carol, smiling.

"If ya wanna to go to the prison, that's where we'll take ya," Ned said. He stood up, leaving Carol sitting in the bed with her jar of water. "There's a bucket in the corner over there if ya need to do ya business. Just be careful ya don't fall. These boards are a little uneven. I'll leave ya the water and the pears in case ya ain't full yet. Burn the lamp all night if ya want, we got plenty of oil. We'll wake ya in time for breakfast and we'll get to lookin' for ya prison."

Carol called out a thank you and the old man smiled, stepping to the doorway.

"I'm gonna leave the door open," he said. "That way some of the heat'll trail in here 'cause this room gets mighty cold with it closed. Ain't nobody gonna bother ya, though, so ya can sleep well."

Carol wasn't sure what to think. She was still having a hard time imagining that she was really going back to the prison. She also wondered what had become of everyone. If Daryl hadn't been in the woods, would he be at the prison? Had everyone else escaped? Had they known how to get back or had they ended up like her, lost and in a different situation altogether?

She ate a few more of the pears and drank some more of the water before burrowing down under the covers. The bed was terribly uncomfortable, but she was so tired that she thought she could overlook that. She left the lamp burning, raising the wick up a little so it didn't immediately burn down. Through the doorway she didn't have a clear view of much, but she could see the corner of a fireplace where a fire was obviously burning and she could hear the soft murmur of voices.

She closed her eyes and hoped that none of this was too good to be true, and she hoped that when she got back, she had her family and her home to go back to.


	62. Chapter 62

**AN: I might be able to get another update out for this tonight. **

**I've been trying to update as much as possible, especially now that the story has so much going on. I just wanted you to know that even though I'm not individually acknowledging them, all your feedback, reviews, PMs, etc. mean a lot to me and I appreciate each and every one of them.**

**I hope you enjoy as we continue on! **

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When Carol woke up, her body ached. She was sure it was a combination of the exertion from before and the uncomfortable bed, but she still felt more rested than she had in a while. She rolled over, seeing the room was just as it had been the night before. The jar of water and fruit still rested by the bed, though the lamp had burned itself out during the night. The door to the room was still open, and she hadn't been bound again. She was starting to wonder if she really was a guest in this house.

Carol got up and stretched, realizing that she wasn't wearing a garment that she recognized in the slightest. She found the bucket that she'd been directed to the night before and realized that nothing she was wearing had been hers originally. She didn't know where it had come from or how she'd come to be wearing it, but now she was wearing some stranger's clothes, and the gown she was wearing was a white cotton gown of the same style that her grandmother might have worn.

As she walked around the room for a minute, her hands went to rest on her belly. She could feel the baby, and she was relieved that the ordeal, whatever had been involved in all of it, hadn't been too much for the butterbean which had now well outgrown its nickname. The room she was in was nice and pretty cozy. The house was obviously quite old, and as she paced around, trying to stretch her screaming muscles she realized what Ned had been talking about with the boards being uneven.

In the light of day she could tell why her bed had been so uncomfortable. Under closer inspection it was an old wooden bed that had very likely been hand carved. It was a beautiful piece, but only a proper mattress would have concealed the harshness of its structure and the mattress appeared to only be something akin to a really large pillow, stuffed probably with down of some sort given the fact that there were feathers on the floor around the bed.

"You're up," Imogene's voice said. Carol turned, almost scared to be caught out of the bed.

"I…I had to use the bathroom," Carol said.

Imogene smiled.

"It happens," she said. "Think you can come to breakfast, or you want me to bring you something?"

Carol regarded the girl a moment. She was a pretty girl with long brown hair she wore tied back in a rough braid. She was young. Maybe Beth's age or a little older at best.

"I could come," Carol said, wondering if this was some sort of test.

"Come on then," Imogene said. "It'll be ready before too long. Just gotta finish the biscuits."

Carol wasn't sure she'd heard correctly, but she nodded and started out the room. When she stepped out, she realized the house was a strange sort of split level house. Probably a cabin from the outside. She stepped directly into a living area and there was a small kitchen area to the side. There was what appeared to be another bedroom across the house and up a ladder, almost like a loft more than anything.

Everything in the house appeared to be carved from wood. Every piece of furniture was beautiful, and clearly handmade, including a rather large kitchen table where Ned was sitting along with a very large framed young man, whom Carol assumed was Wyatt. Imogene crossed the kitchen and Ned smiled at Carol, inviting her with a gesture of his hand to have a seat beside Wyatt.

She stepped forward timidly and eased down into one of the chairs.

"Did you sleep well?" Ned asked. Carol nodded.

"I did, thank you," she said, still not entirely sure how she should act at the moment.

"Wyatt here says he thinks he knows where ya prison is, so we should have ya home just after breakfast. He'll go and get the cart ready and ride ya over there when ya get dressed," Ned said.

Carol smiled and nodded again.

"I would appreciate that," she said.

Imogene put a glass of milk in front of Carol, then, and a plate of food. She repeated the action for Ned and Wyatt before sitting down with her own plate. Carol eyed the plate of food and the glass of milk, disbelieving of the sight in front of her.

"Is that real milk?" She asked.

Ned chuckled.

"I don't know how much imaginary milk ya seen, but we tell Mae it's real," Ned said.

"Mae?" Carol asked.

"Mae's our old dairy cow," Wyatt said.

Carol wasn't sure how old Wyatt was. He had a baby face but he was a giant physically. Carol assumed that's why he had twice as much food and looked like he was about to die for her to eat. He stared at her and she glanced at everyone else. They were all looking at her and she wasn't sure why. She didn't know their habits. Finally, she reached over and picked up her fork, raking up some of the grits that were in her plate. Immediately everyone else began to eat.

"I'm sorry," Carol said after a minute. "Is this ham and eggs? And biscuits?"

Ned smiled and passed her a metal can. She took it and realized it was honey. Why not?

"We don't have the stock we once did," Ned said. "Them dead things get bunched up on us every now and again, but we still got a good bit of our animals."

Carol hadn't had a meal this fresh, with quite so many ingredients that she now considered almost exotic, since the whole thing had begun. She tried to eat calmly, but it was too good to eat as slowly as she would have liked. Everyone else was gobbling their food, though, so she doubted her table manners were going to get her judged harshly by the people around her.

When they'd finished eating, Carol offered to help Imogene with the dishes.

"No," Ned said. "Wyatt's goin' out to get ready to take ya back home. I'll get you something to wear and ya can get dressed. Imogene's just fine with the dishes," Ned said.

Carol accepted, realizing that Ned was the voice of authority in this household. She thanked them for the meal and went back in the little room she'd come out of until Ned came in.

"My wife was a healthy woman," Ned said. He smiled. "No offense meant to ya, just meant that her clothes might have enough room for ya and the little one to share. I don't know if her shoes would fit ya, but ya welcome to try whatever she's got or Imogene could give ya some. Ya didn't have but one when Wyatt brought ya in. Imogene, she washed ya up and changed ya. Didn't think ya'd mind and you were a might bit dirty."

Carol accepted the dress and shoes that Ned offered her and thanked him. He smiled, tipping his head a little and left the room, closing the door behind him. Carol slipped out of the gown, assuming then that the ill-fitting underwear she'd managed to find somewhere were probably the deceased wife's clothes, and pulled on the dress that the man had given her.

She looked at it. It was actually far too big for her, even though her belly did pull it a little tighter in the one area, and she looked like someone's great grandmother or either like she was ready for a casting call for Little House on the Prairie. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers. There was a pair of socks tucked into the shoes, and she pulled them on. The shoes were a little too big, but right this second she welcomed the extra space in contrast to trying to squeeze her aching feet into something that didn't fit.

When she was dressed, she stepped out of the room again.

"Wyatt's waitin' for ya," Ned said, standing in the kitchen and smoking his pipe. Imogene washed dished behind him in a large metal basin she had resting on the countertop.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality," Carol said, realizing that she was really being allowed to leave. In some strange way, now that she knew she could leave, she was a little sad to think of saying goodbye, at least to the old man. Imogene had seemed sweet enough, but her interactions with the girl had been limited.

Ned nodded his head.

"If ya ever this way again," he said, "just stop on in. No need to try and tackle Wyatt in the woods next time."

Carol smiled.

"I will," she said. "If you happen to like the prison environment, feel free to pay us a visit," Carol said.

She stepped then, out the door of the house and onto the porch. She could see Wyatt not far from her, arranging the reins on a cart to which he had two mules hitched.

"You ready?" Wyatt called.

Carol nodded and stepped off the porch. Wyatt helped her into the cart and she couldn't help but admire it as well. It was a show cart, obviously used for parades and such at one time. She wondered if whoever had made the furniture had been responsible as well for the cart.

"Drive easy, now boy," Ned called from the porch.

"Got it, Pa!" Wyatt said.

Carol waved back at the old man who was smoking his pipe on the porch and rode along beside Wyatt, still not sure she believed where she had just come from.

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Carl had spent the morning making sure the fences were repaired. It was particularly difficult, owing to the fact that whoever had cut the holes in them hadn't wanted their entrances and exits to be detected and had done a good job of camouflaging their cuts. Carl found most of them to be down next to the ground, though, and once he'd found the first three, he'd figured out more what he was looking for and been able to find the others with a bit more ease.

His dad and the others had left to find the group without having any idea where they were going. Everyone else was missing…simply gone without a trace. Carl had seen Daryl a few times and he didn't look good. As far as he could figure, Daryl wouldn't be with them much longer, and especially not if his dad didn't come back with at least some news of the others.

Carl was trying to hold it together and come to terms with the fact that he was left behind with Hershel, Judith, and with Daryl for however long the man decided to hang in there. If no one came back, and he was beginning to doubt they would, he was in charge of this group now, no matter how small and defenseless it was. He had to hold it together and be a man about it or they weren't going to make it at all.

When he heard the engine of a truck, Carl's head jerked up and he looked toward the road that the truck was approaching on. It appeared to be some sort of delivery van and it was headed toward the gates. Carl crawled along the bottom of the fence where he was and made his way toward the cover of one of the trucks in the yard, near the gates. He wasn't showing himself if he could avoid it. Whoever this was could easily be who had come in the first place and destroyed the life they had been building here.

The van slowed and the door opened. Carl pulled the gun from the holster at his side and aimed it, still not really raising up enough to be seen. The man that got out of the truck, after a moment's inspection, was Brian. He had left with his dad. Brian made his way to the gates and pulled at them, testing them. They were chained, of course, and he stood there a moment, stabbing a couple of interested Walkers with his knife.

Carl stood enough then that he could be seen, his gun still raised in case there was more to what had happened than meets the eye. This entire situation was a mystery and he was taking nothing on face value. Four of them remained, but he wasn't letting anything happen to them.

"Carl, open the gates," Brian called, stabbing another Walker.

"Where's my dad?" Carl called back.

"Still fighting," Brian called. "I've got people. I've got to get back there and help. Open the gates, we don't have time to waste, Carl. People are dying."

Carl stepped forward, still a little unsure.

"Open the gates!" Brian commanded. "I've got to get these people unloaded and get back there! Glenn said there was a box of explosives you brought in from Woodbury. They need those and they need them before it's too late."

Carl took the urgency of the man for honesty and hoped he wouldn't regret it. He walked down, opening the gates and allowing Brian to drive the van inside. Brian drove straight up toward the prison and Carl killed the few Walkers that tried to take advantage of the open gates. He relocked them and jogged toward the prison, hoping to find out more about what might have happened, or what might still be happening.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Brian helped Daryl move as best he could. Daryl was barely hanging onto consciousness and Brian and Carl had to struggle to get him into his cell and tied to his bunk. Brian didn't want to admit that he thought the man wasn't exactly long for this world, but nothing about what he'd seen lately made him wholly optimistic. Hershel was going to need the tiny hospital room, though, for whatever injuries came in, including patching up the ones that Brian brought with him.

"What about Tyreese?" Hershel asked Brian as they made their way toward the van to survey the injured.

"Found him first," Brian said. "He was pretty beat up, but he took a weapon and stayed behind. We've just got women here."

Brian didn't want to tell them too much about what it was looking like out there. It wasn't a fair fight in the least. Their group, or what remained of it, wasn't in the greatest condition and just five or six of them weren't really fit to fight against the size of the group they'd encountered. Especially not with the limited weapons and ammunition that they had. By the time Brian had managed, barely, to escape with the people he had in the van, he might as well have been throwing rocks at the men who were trying to stop him.

The women that Brian brought back were Melodye, Sasha, and Maggie. All three sorely abused and almost on the verge of unconsciousness. They'd been the only three that he'd been able to find and get into the somewhat abandoned van. He'd brought them back to at least save someone, not sure that anyone else was coming back. He didn't tell Hershel, though, the reason for only bringing the three.

"Dear God in Heaven," Hershel proclaimed upon seeing the women in the back of the van. "What's happened out there, son?"

Brian shook his head.

"Devil's come to Georgia," Brian said. He heaved up Sasha first since she was the closest to him.

"Just put them in D Block," Hershel said. "They'll be close enough that I can carry some things to them. I'll never move them on my own if you don't."

Brian nodded understandingly and began unloading them. He became aware, when he was carrying Maggie, that Carl was hovering around him somewhat.

"Can you do me a favor?" Brian asked the boy.

"What?" Carl asked.

"Glenn said there were weapons stored up, some heavy artillery. Can you load that in the van for me? If we stand a chance of coming back intact then the group has to have better firepower," Brian said.

"There's a couple of boxes of grenades," Carl said. "Lots of guns and ammo. You want all of it?"

Brian considered it. They didn't need all the guns, he supposed, and they didn't want to lose everything they had if they got overrun.

"Keep two thirds of the guns and ammo in case you've got to keep going," Brian said, putting Maggie into the cell designated for her. "Keep a box of grenades, but those are the best thing for us right now."

"You're just going to blow everyone up?" Hershel asked, appearing in the cell block.

Brian shook his head.

"I'm not sure we have much of a choice at this point," he said. "They're going to die one way or another. We'll save who we can, but we can't leave these people out there. I don't think you understand the kind of folks we're dealing with, and I don't want to discuss the details in front of the boy."

Hershel nodded and let his eyesight fall over the cell where his oldest daughter was unconscious.

"Beth?" He asked.

Brian shook his head.

"What you see here is all I know right now," Brian said. "I just need the ammunition. We'll try to get everyone back."

Hershel nodded and Brian sighed as he watched Carl jog off in the direction of storage to start loading up the weapons. Brian started back out the door to get the last of the three women so that he could hopefully make it back in time to help those he'd been voted to leave behind.

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

It was taking longer than Carol expected to reach the prison. Wyatt was a quiet young man, and he drove the cart along in silence for the most part. They had seen a few Walkers, all of which had trailed them for a bit, until they lost interest. The mules didn't seem to mind the Walkers, and Wyatt hardly seemed to notice them.

"The mules don't get spooked?" Carol asked.

"Jake's a mule," Wyatt said. "Hollie's a hinny."

Carol nodded, not really knowing the difference.

"The Walkers don't bother them?" She asked again.

"Huh?" Wyatt asked.

"The Walkers? The dead people? They don't bother them?" She asked, hoping the clarification of terminology helped.

Wyatt smiled.

"Don't nothing spook Jake and Hollie. Once Pa was driving them in a parade and a whole box of fireworks got set off right next to both of 'em. The people around was freaking out and jumping all over the place, but the two of them acted like weren't a thing going on," Wyatt said, chuckling.

Carol smiled.

"How did you end up living with your grandfather?" She asked.

Wyatt shrugged.

"Everything sorta went crazy, you know? Mama figured it was best to send me an' Imogene to Pa's house 'cause don't too many people go out that far. We went and we just stayed there. I went back to our house once, but Mama and Daddy weren't there, so we figure they either died or they left," Wyatt said.

Carol assumed it was safer to believe they died, but it was also the least pleasant of the two options. She sighed a little, shifting on the seat.

"So you married? Where's your husband?" Wyatt asked.

Carol realized she was wearing a wedding band. The diamond that Daryl had picked and the band that they'd used for the actual wedding were tucked in her things at the prison, but she'd kept a few of the bigger bands to wear, just to accommodate for her swelling fingers.

"I am married," Carol said. "And I hope he's at the prison."

"Why were you runnin' through the woods?" Wyatt asked.

"I got kidnapped, I guess," Carol said. "I was trying to get away."

Wyatt chuckled.

"Next time ya get kidnapped, might think about not running 'til you're ready to pass out. I had a harder time catching the squirrels we made that stew out of than I did catching you," Wyatt said.

Carol nodded. Maybe it had seemed like a stupid thing to be running through the woods like she was, but it was all she could do at the time. She didn't know how else to survive the situation that she was in.

Finally, she started to recognize the area a little and before she knew it they were on the road that led up to the prison.

"Just up there," she said, pointing. "That little road there, it takes you right to the gates."

Wyatt nodded and directed their four legged friends in the direction of the gates. Carol was worried, as they neared them, that there would be no one there. She had pushed the worry down until now, but she was face to face with the reality that she might be the only one left. She didn't know if emotionally she could handle the fact that everyone else might be gone.

"Woah," Wyatt said, commanding the animals to stop. The cart rocked to a stop and Wyatt hopped down, killing three Walkers silently. "This where you want to be?" He asked, looking back at Carol.

"I don't know," she said suddenly. "I don't know if anyone is left."

"Where'd they go?" He asked. "You said you live here."

"I did llive here," Carol said. "I told you I was kidnapped, but I didn't tell you that I think everyone else might have been too."

Wyatt came around and helped her off the cart. He made her feel like a small child because next to his hulking figure she felt like she was maybe ten. Carol walked up to the fence. She found the chain locked, as it normally would be, and she didn't see anyone. She wanted to call out, but she knew it would be useless. It would only serve to bring Walkers down on them, and even if there was someone there, they'd never hear her all the way at the prison. She wondered how long she should just stand there.

"What if no one comes?" She asked, more to herself than to anyone else.

"Then I reckon you gonna have to come home with me," Wyatt said. "Pa would have a fit if I just left you standin' out here alone. You don't even got a knife."

It was true. Carol was unarmed. She didn't have anything on her. She wasn't even wearing anything anymore that was hers except the wedding band on her finger.

She saw, suddenly, a sight that made her heart leap a little though. Streaking out through the yard, was Carl, binoculars around his neck. He'd seen her. Carl was alive, at least, but Carol was a little worried that no one else was coming out. At least he was alive, though. Carol waited, Wyatt by her side keeping Walkers away from the both of them, for the boy that was coming to let her back inside and who was hopefully going to bring her good tidings about the rest of her family.


	63. Chapter 63

Hershel thought to himself that if there had ever been a time for drinking, especially since Rick Grimes had shown up at his door with his child suffering from a bullet wound, now would be the time. Hershel was tired, and it was more than lack of sleep that was causing it now. It was worry. Not just the common worry that they had from day to day over exposure to the elements, the threat of Walkers, the lack of food or supplies. Right now it was a worry that all was lost…that everyone was lost, and nothing would quite be the same again.

The devil had come to Georgia. Wasn't that what Brian had said? The devil had come to Georgia.

Hershel and Carl had eaten, had tried to force Daryl, fairly unsuccessfully to eat. They hadn't bothered heating the food either. They'd played some kind of canned good roulette with the unlabeled cans at their disposure and eaten straight from the cans whatever luck had given them. They weren't eating for the taste of the food right now, or the enjoyment of the meal time. They were eating merely so they could hear their own thoughts and the silence of the prison over their growling stomachs. Even Judith seemed, somehow, to understand the gravity of the situation and stayed quiet.

The devil hadn't just come to Georgia, he had come to their home.

Hershel had checked over the three women now in his care, one of which was his oldest daughter. He had thanked God for bringing them back, and bringing them back relatively unharmed. Sadly enough, though all of them had seemed to be brutally beaten, lashed, and branded, he thought that might be unharmed for the situation at hand.

They were stable and coming around, though he'd medicated all three of them enough to keep them down and out for a bit. He didn't know if he was equipped to handle whatever emotional damage had been done inside. That was out of his league. Melodye was the psychiatrist of the prison, and he wondered if even she would be fit for such a job after her own experiences.

Hershel moved from cell to cell, making rounds and trying to forget that there was more terror going on out there. He had no idea where the others were, how many were left alive, and what they were suffering if they were alive.

What troubled him more than anything, though, was that there was no explanation for why the devil had come to their home. The Governor, when he had come, had come for what? Revenge? Greed? What was the motivation of this attack?

Hershel left the sleeping women and hobbled his way back to C Block, going to check on Daryl. The man wasn't doing well, and Hershel knew that some of it was owing to his injury, but much of it was owing to his mental state.

Daryl Dixon was not a man that liked to be told that he had to stay out of the fray. That was true regardless of what was going on, but it was worse now. Daryl had fallen in love, and Hershel knew that as well as anyone else. The thing was, Daryl had truly fallen in love. He hadn't gone for the superficial type of love that seemed so popular among young people, like the love that Beth and Jimmy had for each other where they kissed once, thinking it would scandalize their parents, and suddenly they thought they were madly in love.

No, that kind of love was the kind that was short lived. It was the kind that came with a kiss and left with the first sign of trouble. It was the kind of love that faded with youth and beauty.

Daryl hadn't fallen into that kind of love at all. He loved Carol the way that counted. Hershel had known it for sure when he first saw Daryl caring for her after the Governor had gotten his hands on her. It was obvious that Daryl wasn't entirely sure what to do with the feeling, but it was there nonetheless. The only thing that had mattered to him was that she lived, that she stayed with him, and had she suffered some debilitating lifelong damage as a result of what happened, Daryl would have been happy to deal with it for the rest of his life just to have her there with him.

But now the devil had come and had taken away what Daryl loved and fixed it so that he couldn't dive into the fray and get her back, and it was killing Daryl far faster than even the injuries ever could.

Hershel leaned over Daryl, finding him somewhat asleep or either in a state of unconsciousness. Hershel felt for his pulse, worried that the young man was going to slip away soon. Daryl's eyes opened. For a moment he looked around and then his eyes narrowed in on Hershel, filled with the rage and the hate they'd been holding since they first opened after his injury.

Hershel nodded his head a little at Daryl. He knew that Daryl didn't really hate him. He hated the situation and he needed someone to direct that hate at. Hershel was the most logical candidate, of course, being one of the few left and the bearer of the bad news that Daryl wouldn't be riding to the rescue of Carol or anyone else.

"It's good to see you're awake, son," Hershel said. "Your pulse is stronger. How's your pain?"

Daryl didn't respond to him. He seldom did when asked about his pain. He rolled his eyes up at Hershel, but didn't say anything. It was just as well. Every time they'd been engaged in conversation it had resulted the same. Daryl wanted to go and Hershel tried to get him to understand that he didn't have the stamina in his body to go where his mind and heart would wish to take him.

"They're starting to come back, Daryl," Hershel said. He hoped that Daryl could find hope in the fact that some of them were returned. Hershel was searching for his own hope there. He was trying to believe that if some had come back, then they would eventually all be back. The three they had now were a promise that the rest would return.

Daryl's expression didn't change much at the news.

"Who?" He asked, his voice harsh. Hershel knew he didn't have an answer that would excite Daryl at all. It wasn't that Daryl didn't care about the lives of everyone that had disappeared, it was just that he cared most for one and she was still unaccounted for. Hershel didn't take it as callousness on Daryl's part. It was simply human nature to worry most about those you love the most, and for Daryl, much like Hershel had felt about his late wife, sometimes you feel like your love for another is tied to your very existence. Their survival is just as important to you, if not more important, than your own.

Hershel, himself, was thrilled that Maggie was back, but felt his heart yearning for news of Beth with what seemed like passing days instead of passing minutes and hours. Everyone worried about those whose loss would most change their lives.

"Melodye," Hershel said, removing his blood pressure cuff from where he had it hanging on his belt. He untied one of Daryl's arms, noticing that Daryl no longer had the strength or the will to fight him over it. He slipped the cuff on. "Sasha, and Maggie."

Daryl swallowed, looking away from Hershel. Hershel finished taking his blood pressure and retied his arm into the position it had been in before. Daryl didn't say anything and he didn't need to.

"They'll be bringing more soon, Daryl," Hershel said, not sure that he believed it himself. "You'll see."

Daryl didn't respond and Hershel left the cell. He might as well let him be. No amount of talking to him was going to convince him to be happy in the situation. Daryl Dixon wasn't going to be happy until they brought Carol back, and Hershel wasn't sure if they would.

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"Carol?" Carl called as he got closer to the gates.

"Carl!" Carol said, just as loud as she dared. She didn't want to bring more Walkers for Wyatt to deal with than he already had coming to examine them.

"Are you OK?" Carl asked.

Carol wondered for a second about the trepidation with which Carl was approaching the gate, but then she remembered that it was possibly very different for him having been left behind. He also wouldn't know Wyatt and how she'd come to stand at the gate with the beast of a man.

"I'm fine, Carl," Carol said. "Please open the gate so that we can come in. I'll explain when we're inside."

Carl nodded and opened the gate, letting Carol pass through. Wyatt passed through a moment later leading in his tiny team pulling the cart. Carl closed the gate behind them and immediately pulled his gun from his holster.

"Who is this and what does he want?" Carl demanded.

"Easy, Carl," Carol said. "This is Wyatt. He saved me. He's not a threat. He's just bringing me back."

Carl didn't immediately lower his gun. He narrowed his eyes a little at Carol.

"How did you find him? Where is everybody?" Carl asked.

Carol shook her head.

"I don't know, Carl. I was at some kind of farm with them. Alice and Michonne helped me escape. I was running through the woods and Wyatt here found me," Carol said. It wasn't until she said it that she realized how ridiculous it sounded.

Carl finally slipped his gun into his holster, but Carol could tell that he was jumpy. Wyatt dropped the reins to the animals he was leading and let them start a feasting smorgasboard on the overgrown grass of the lower part of the yard.

"Does that mean we're the only ones here?" Carol finally asked Carl, starting to feel the panic boiling again inside her.

Carl shook his head.

"Hershel and Judith are here. Daryl's here, but he's been shot, and Brian brought a few others in a van earlier," Carl said.

"Daryl's been shot?" Carol asked. Her heart jumped into her throat and she started toward the prison. She didn't know what to expect or what condition he'd be in, but she made her way there as quickly as possible. Carl stayed on her feet, but Wyatt lingered somewhere behind them.

Carol came into the prison and Carl called out for Hershel. She didn't know where Daryl was, but she immediately went to their cell. She rushed through the slit in their curtain.

Daryl was lying in bed. His eyes were closed and he was tied to the bunk and Carol hoped it wasn't as bad as it looked. He was shirtless and his chest was bandaged. She stepped forward, almost afraid to touch him. She sat gently on the side of the bed and was vaguely aware of Carl and Hershel talking outside.

Carol rubbed Daryl's face and he didn't respond at first. She leaned in, putting her cheek to his and ran her fingers through his hair, trying not to cry. Daryl stirred then, and Carol sat back. He turned his face toward her, a sour expression pasted on his face at first. Then he looked at her almost like he was afraid of her or didn't recognize her.

"Carol?" He finally asked, still looking unsure.

She smiled, sucking back the tears that were falling without permission.

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head a little. "It's me," she said.

Daryl continued to look at her with the same expression for a moment and then he started to fight with the restraints, his attention turned fully to them.

"Damn it," he growled.

"Shhh," Carol said. She reached up and started working the knots loose on his hands. As soon as his hands were free, Carol felt him wrap one of them around her arm. His hands were freezing, and she hoped it was lack of circulation from the restraints and the chill of the cell and not something more serious.

Carol leaned in, then, bringing her lips to his. At first he didn't respond to the kiss, almost as though he was still unsure that she was there, and that the kiss was even a real kiss. Finally, though he responded, his tongue diving into her mouth with the same enthusiasm it had before when he'd threatened to choke her time after time. When she pulled out of the kiss she rubbed his face again and ran her fingers through his hair, smiling at him despite the fact that she still couldn't completely keep from sobbing.

"You need a haircut," she said.

Daryl's expression had softened a little, but it looked to Carol like he still wasn't processing everything.

"Did they bring you?" Daryl asked. "Are ya OK?"

"Wyatt brought me," Carol said, "and I'm fine, Daryl. Are you OK? You're the one that's been shot."

Daryl didn't respond to her, though. His hands went to her face, wiping at the tears there and then he trailed them down her arms and quickly over her body, like he was checking to see if she was real and in one piece.

"Are ya OK?" Daryl asked again, still looking confused.

Carol smiled and nodded again.

"Daryl, I'm fine. Just fine," she said. "I'm fine, the baby's fine. Are you OK?"

Daryl didn't respond.

"What did they do ta ya? Who took ya?" Daryl asked.

Carol realized she wasn't getting any answers out of Daryl. She heard Hershel clear his throat and she turned, realizing he was standing in the doorway of the cell. She stood up and Hershel wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to him. She felt him stroking the back of her head for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Hershel asked.

Carol nodded.

"I'm fine. They took me, but no one laid a hand on me…not really," she said. "Then I got away. Michonne and Alice, they got me out of there. I ran into Wyatt, the man outside. His family took me in and then they brought me here. I'm just fine. What happened to Daryl?"

Hershel glanced toward Daryl and then back at Carol.

"When everyone disappeared Daryl was shot. We found him bleeding out in the lower part of the yard. I think the injuries are under control now, but he's got recovery ahead of him," Hershel said.

Carol nodded, turning around. She went back to Daryl who still looked like he didn't believe the entire scene that was playing out in front of him.

"I'm here now," Carol said to him. "I can take care of you. You're going to be fine," she said. Daryl reached his hand up and rubbed her face again, but he didn't say anything. She wished he would say something, but she supposed that he was still trying to process everything. She hadn't even processed much of what had happened, of what was happening.

Carol turned back to Hershel.

"Everyone else?" She asked, almost terrified to hear the answer.

"They left a few of us behind. Rick, Glenn, the boy Jacob, Brian, they've gone after the others," Hershel said. "They brought back Sasha, Melodye, and Maggie, but we haven't seen them since and we haven't heard anything about any of the others."

"And those three?" Carol asked. "They're alright?"

Hershel lowered his head a little.

"They've been through a lot, but it's nothing that they won't recover from," Hershel said. He was quiet for a minute and Carol could only imagine what might have happened to them. She felt guilty. She hadn't been in the same situation as they had been in. She had no idea what anyone had been through. She'd been the one to run out on everyone else, literally. She'd escaped, but she may have been the only one.

Carol nodded, trying not to let her own guilt show. She determined that the least she could do was take care of the others. Do her best to make it up to them somehow that she'd run out on them, that she hadn't stayed with them and tried to help them.

"I can help," she said. "Take care of Daryl, take care of them…help with Judith."

Hershel nodded his head a little.

"I'll appreciate the help," Hershel said, "just until the others get back to help. I don't want you overdoing it, though. I want to check you over, just to be sure you're really OK."

Carol nodded her understanding.

"That's fine," she said, "but I promise I'm fine."

She felt tears welling up and tried to swallow them down. Hershel would see soon enough why she was as guilty as she was.

"What do we do about the giant?" Carl asked, poking his head through the curtain and craning around Hershel.

Carol realized that Wyatt was still out there, waiting to find out what he was supposed to be doing.

"I'll talk to him," Carol said, standing up. She touched Daryl's hand for a moment that he outstretched toward her. "Rest, Daryl," Carol said. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

She stepped outside, then and went out to where Wyatt was standing in the yard, drawing designs in the dirt with his foot. He looked up from his feet when she came out.

"Your husband OK?" Wyatt asked.

Carol nodded slightly.

"He will be," she said.

"I reckon I should get back then," Wyatt said. "Pa gets to worryin' sometimes when we're out late."

"He should," Carol said. She realized that her heart ached a little to think of saying goodbye to Wyatt and to knowing that these people had saved her and she could never repay them, and she'd probably never see them again. "Wyatt," she said after a second.

"Ma'am?" Wyatt asked.

"Tell your grandfather that this place is usually safe…though it hasn't proved to be that in the last few days. Tell him that we've got plenty of supplies, and we've got room. Tell him that if he'd like to come here, and bring you and your sister, and even the animals, we'd be happy to have you here. We've got fences. They don't always keep people out, but they help with the dead, and I saw you're pretty open to the dead there," Carol said.

Wyatt nodded his head and smiled.

"I'll tell him," Wyatt said. "Ya take care now, and don't go runnin' through the woods no more if you don't know where ya going, OK?"

Carol smiled and nodded.

"Thank you for saving me, Wyatt," she said.

A broad grin spread across his giant baby face.

"Ain't no problem, ma'am," he said.

Carol stepped forward and hugged him, feeling like a child hugging their father. His broad arms wrapped around her and he hugged her gently back, blushing a little when she pulled away from him. He smiled and started toward the gates.

Carl appeared at Carol's side a moment later.

"You want me to let him out?" Carl asked.

Carol nodded and watched as Carl went walking after Wyatt through the yard. She turned then, and headed back inside the prison to let Hershel look at her so that she could get busy tending Daryl and the ones that they'd brought.

She wondered exactly how long it would be before they brought the others, and how many others they should expect.

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The moan echoed through the darkness. It was a soft sound inside the small space that contrasted greatly with the ear drum rattling booms that had been happening outside, just barely in the distance. The moan was the first of its kind, and Michonne could identify the sound of the voice that produced it clearly.

It was Alice. She knew that much, though finding her in the pitch black was going to be a much harder task. Michonne shuffled around like a blind person, rubbing her hands across the dirt and feeling for body parts. She found something, and working her hands up it, she thought it was a leg.

"Alice, is that you?" She whispered. The moan was all she heard in response at first and then the leg twitched a little, letting her know she'd hit her mark. "It's OK…keep quiet."

"Fuckin' dark," Alice rasped.

"It is dark," Michonne said. She reached around, finding Alice's waist in the dark and pulled her against her. If she was awake, she was the only other one awake, and that meant she was likely not going to just drift back off while sitting up.

"I've been wanting to get to know you better to," Alice rasped, chuckling a little. Michonne snickered and wrapped her arm around the woman who was now lying next to her, although somewhat on top of her.

"Try to sleep," Michonne whispered. The noise outside continued, and Michonne felt Alice quake a little. It was hard to get used to the noise when you hadn't been hearing it for a while. Michonne was almost immune to it at this point.

"Where the fuck are we?" Alice rasped.

"Safe," Michonne whispered back. "Quiet now, don't draw attention. Just try to get some sleep."

"Mel?" Alice rasped again.

"Shhh…" Michonne said. "Already home…beat us there by a while. Sleep."

Michonne tucked her left arm under her head and let her right fall across Alice. She hoped the woman would sleep and she hoped that eventually she might sleep as well, though it was difficult to close your eyes and not see and hear everything in far too vivid detail.

Michonne kept absentmindedly strumming her fingers from time to time over Alice's arm and eventually she was sure that the woman's breathing was rhythmic. She closed her own eyes and tried not to think about what might be happening outside.


	64. Chapter 64

Carol got dressed with Hershel still talking to her. Just as she already knew, she was fine. Nothing had happened out there, not to her, that was worth mentioning. She knew that now that she was back and she could see the condition that Daryl was in and she could see, just from glancing in on them, how Sasha, Maggie, and Melodye were. She had escaped and had gotten off easy.

"You look just fine," Hershel said. He seemed pleased with the declaration and Carol knew it was foolish that she wasn't exactly fine with it. She should be ecstatic that she had been kidnapped with the others and had made it out unharmed, but it seemed to her that all she could feel was guilt gnawing at her.

In the short walk from bidding farewell to Wyatt all the way to the office that Alice had set up and Hershel was using for the time being, still confident that Alice was returning, Carol had enough time for her mind to offer her all the ways in which she'd failed everyone since the whole thing started. It taunted her about people who had died around her, because of her, and people who might very well be dead now that she didn't even know about. And she felt guilty for each and every one of them. She'd survived many times before and she'd walked away from this with hardly a scratch.

"What's wrong?" Hershel asked, stopping himself in front of her as she sat on the table, having pulled the dress back over her head. She couldn't see herself, but she could only imagine that her face was giving away her thoughts. Unfortunately she'd never been very good at hiding her emotions. "I said you look just fine, Carol, excellent really," Hershel said. The poor man was confusing her emotional suffering for something related to her health, and that wasn't the case at all.

"It's nothing, Hershel," Carol said, trying to pull herself together and sliding off the table to stand on her feet in hopes of escaping the office as quickly as possible. "I was just thinking of the others. I'm going to go now. See if I can't get something decent for everyone to eat."

Hershel frowned at her and put a hand on her shoulder, but finally he dismissed her.

Carol wandered back through the prison and started into the storage area, packing a plastic laundry basket with the clean and almost polished aluminum cans that she could find there. Nothing was labelled, at least nothing that they'd recently brought in, and she wondered what sort of mystery stew would end up developing from the contents.

Daryl was resting. Hershel had given him something for pain and she'd begged him to take it. He finally had, without too much of a struggle, and now he was sleeping. Carol wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he was looking at her, every time he opened his eyes and saw her, with a strange expression on his face. It was one that she hadn't seen there before and she worried that she understood it.

Carol stepped out in to the cool air and wished for a moment that she'd thought to throw on a sweater or something before stepping out to start a fire. She decided, though, that the sooner she got the flames burning, the sooner she'd be warm and she set to work. She would bring the pots over soon, and the basket that she'd left just inside with the mystery contents of dinner, and she'd cook something for her family. At least for what was left of it.

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

The flood of light that spilled into the darkness almost blinded Michonne when she sat up looking toward it. It was nothing more than instinct, but she tightened her arm around the body of the woman who was lying next to her and braced herself for her eyes to adjust to the light and announce whether or not they were really safe or if they'd been found.

"Anyone alive?" She heard Rick's voice say. Her heart leapt a little. It was a familiar voice. They were going home and she'd never thought in her life the idea of going back to a prison would seem like the greatest thing that could happen.

"We're alive," she said, her voice hoarser than it had been the night before. Her eyes adjusted to the brightness and she saw Rick limp into the metal storage space where they'd taken cover and refuge the night before in an attempt to get those out that they could before the final wave of fighting began.

"You mobile?" Rick asked. Michonne wrestled to her feet then, ignoring the screaming pain of the bullet she knew to be lodged in her thigh.

"Yeah," she panted. "I'm good. Is it safe to come out?"

"We think they're all gone," Rick said. "At least if they're not, I don't think they're coming back here."

Michonne limped toward the light, her eyes still not entirely adjusted, and emerged from the space. Though there was enough room to stand completely inside, instinct made her stay down until she was out in the open air. She focused in on Rick's face and hugged him. The sounds the night before had made her wonder if she'd be the only one left this morning, so seeing his face there was enough to make her feel much more hopeful.

"Tyreese?" Michonne asked, pulling away.

"Beaten and bruised, but still standing," Rick said. "He's with Glenn. They're trying to see if there are any salvageable trucks or vans that we can use. Brian's back at the farm, trying to see if we missed anyone."

Michonne nodded her understanding.

"Alice was alive last night," she said. "No Walkers so I'm guessing everyone in there is still somewhat alive, but she was responsive."

"See if you can get her awake," Rick said. "Tell her we're going to find a way to move everyone and to just hang tight. We're not leaving them."

Michonne nodded and went back into the metal room. She found Alice in the semi darkness and shook her. It took a moment, but finally she moaned, starting to come around again.

"Alice, I need you to listen to me," Michonne said.

Alice moaned in response and then groaned in an affirmative way, letting Michonne know that she was conscious, though not necessarily thrilled with the idea of verbal communication at the moment.

"We're going to get trucks to head back to the prison. We're closing y'all in here to make sure you're safe, but don't freak out and don't let anyone else panic. We're coming back," Michonne said.

Alice groaned her understanding again, squeaking out an OK at the end and rolled back into the dirt. Michonne left and she and Rick closed the bent and rusted metal doors and headed silently toward what Michonne could only think of as the battle ground.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Daryl wasn't too enthusiastic about eating, but Carol convinced him to take some of it. He insisted on trying to lie on his side and feed himself, annoyed at the very least that she tried to feed him, but he was having a difficult time of it given the combination of his injuries, the medication, and the position that he was in.

"Daryl, let me help you," Carol begged. "Just until you can sit up better."

"I can do just fine," Daryl said, dismissing her a little. "Ya eat yet?"

Carol nodded.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm going to eat in just a little bit."

She watched him struggling and it broke her heart to think that he was struggling over something as simple as eating a bowl of soup. He wasn't going to let her help him, though, and his efforts to keep her from feeding him were causing more winces of pain across his face than when she left him alone, so she sighed and watched him eat.

She wondered if he was angry with her too because she'd come away from this unscathed. Maybe he knew that she'd been a coward and she'd run. That was the only way that she'd come back from this the way that she had and not in the same condition as the others. She didn't know what would have happened if she'd stayed. She couldn't be sure what Henry would have done if the others had come and had actually tried to legitimately rescue her.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. "I'll help you wash when I'm done feeding the others and cleaning up, OK? You'll feel better when you're cleaned up. Isn't that what you always tell me?"

She knew she wasn't getting him down to the showers. She didn't have the ability to scoop him up and carry him like he did to her so many times. She could, though, bring water and wash him up. Redress his wounds. She could do whatever it was that she was capable of, even if he glared at her while she did it.

"I'm clean," Daryl protested, trying to suck down another spoonful of the messy meal.

Carol frowned. She didn't really want to point out that he wasn't clean, especially not after his stubborn attempt to eat, because she didn't want to annoy him more than he clearly already was.

"Daryl, you need a bath," Carol said. "Now I can give it to you or Hershel can give it to you, but you're going to take one."

She got up then and started back out of the cell, leaving him as alone as he clearly wanted to be, and turned her attention to getting soup to take down to D Block to feed the others. She hoped that, even if they hated her after they realized what had happened, they were at least easy patients to take care of.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Michonne looked around at the wasteland in front of her. Everything that had once been standing was essentially burned to the ground in charred piles. A shudder ran through her as she thought about all the lives that had been lost here. It was blood spilled by their few people, but also blood spilled by the other side.

"Anyone alive?" Michonne asked, already knowing the answer to the question but still feeling that it needed to be asked or that something needed to be said.

Rick shook his head.

"Not since last night," he said. "The darker it got the more desperate it got. I don't even want to think about…" His voice trailed off. "I don't want to think about the innocent lives that were lost."

Michonne had been one of the ones to try to rescue the majority of their people. They'd found most of them in a barn with at least two dozen, maybe three, other women. The other women had been oddly complacent, or at least Michonne had thought so. They'd tried to get them all out, trailing them as quietly as possible, while the fighting went on around them, to the storage unit that they'd found, but many of the women hadn't even seemed to care that she was trying to rescue them. She'd fought with them for a while until someone opened fire on them and then she'd given up on anyone who wasn't willing to run to save themselves.

Michonne just nodded.

"Brian's doing a final check," Rick said with a sigh, "just to make sure that no one is left alive worth saving…or killing."

"What about the boss? The ringleader?" Michonne asked.

He'd been a despicable excuse for a man. He seemed to have spent most of the time hiding behind what seemed like a never ending wall of minions willing to die for his sorry ass. Michonne had wanted to kill him herself, but the only moment she even got close to be able to do so, she wasn't able to. She'd let him live in a last minute effort to try to save Alice, who was trying to save the woman named Cynthia, from some of his evil little drones. The man had escaped during the struggle.

"He's dead," Rick said. "Shot in the back."

"Too good for him," Michonne said, noticing Brian shuffling toward them, holding his side absentmindedly and staring at his feet.

"I agree," Rick said. "But he was a coward. The only way you were ever going to kill him was to shoot him in the back. He would never have faced any of us."

"Nobody left alive," Brian said, walking up to them. "Nothing left of the dead, hardly."

Rick nodded.

"Guys…" Glenn called. "We got one that runs. Are we going to be able to drive it down to the unit?"

Glenn walked up and Michonne could tell he was barely on his feet. The only thing that had kept him going strong the entire time was knowing that Maggie was back at the prison already, and safely with Hershel. Now Michonne would be surprised if he didn't collapse from exhaustion and blood loss from the poorly tourniqueted gash on his arm before they ever made it back.

"I think a truck will make it down there," Michonne said. "The dirt road isn't the best quality, but you can tell it's been travelled before with vehicles."

Now that things were calming down, now that it looked like they were really heading home and the threat was over, Michonne felt exhausted herself. She was almost too tired to even wrap her mind around the myriad of emotions that were circling inside her. A lot of people were dead. Good people and bad people. They had seen first-hand the damage that one sick man could do, and they weren't done yet. There would be a lot for everyone that was still alive to overcome.

Their losses had been minimal. If Michonne was correct, currently they'd only lost two or three, though the toll may rise if they didn't get a move on.

Glenn shuffled off again, back in the direction of the truck that they'd found and the three of them waited for him and Tyreese to pull the vehicle forward, showing themselves to them.

"Do we take back the bodies?" Brian asked.

Rick shook his head.

"What was left?" He asked.

Brian shrugged.

"Honestly I don't know anymore. I tried to look for them both, but there's just…" he trailed off for a minute, looking at the ground and shaking his head. "There's so much…it's just really hard to tell if you've got one person or another."

Rick nodded.

"As much as I'd like to take them home, I don't know that it wouldn't cause more heartbreak to take them back like that. If Hershel wants us to come back, then we will, but until then let's just focus on getting the living home and keeping them alive," Rick said.

Brian nodded and Michonne watched as Tyreese drove the truck past them and down the narrow dirt road that led toward the space where everyone was stored and waiting on them. She hoped that no one had turned in their absence because battling a Walker in a space like that wouldn't be easy, especially in the dark.

1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Carol didn't get around to the bath that she promised Daryl, at least not in a timely manner. She'd barely finished helping Hershel make sure the three women had at least tried to eat something through their medicinal stupor before Carl had come yelling into the prison that they were there. They were back.

Carol had rushed out of the prison as quickly as she could, beating Hershel by a good bit. There was a truck parked near the prison door. Tyreese and Glenn spilled out of the cab of the truck first and Carol held herself back, afraid to approach anyone. Both of them were so caked in blood and muck and other mess that they were hardly recognizable if she hadn't known who of their companions she might have to choose from to find an identify for them.

By the time that Hershel was at her side, they were opening the back of the truck. Rick came next, limping but smiling when he saw them. He turned and helped Michonne out of the truck and Carol immediately knew that she'd been correct. The woman had never run with her in the first place. Michonne limped to the side, turning her attention to the back of the truck. Brian crawled out next.

Carol finally let herself rush forward then and was met by Rick.

"We didn't know what happened to you," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "We knew you got off the farm, but we didn't know what happened after that."

"I'm so glad you made it back," Carol said. She wasn't going to say anything else about her experiences. She turned her attention, then, to the people still in the truck.

Cynthia was one of the first women that Michonne helped to the front of the truck, finally crawling back inside to be of assistance there. Carol involuntarily turned her face a little at the woman. Cynthia was a very pretty woman by any standards, but at the moment it was evident that she'd seen far better days in her lifetime.

She was able to walk on her own, though, and she accepted Rick and Brian's assistance at getting out of the truck. Alice was the next to come, also clearly none the better for the stay at the camp, but she took to her feet and stayed there after Brian balanced her a moment.

Michonne crawled out of the truck again.

"Karen and Milagros," she said. "Neither of them is getting anywhere on their own two feet right now."

"I can help," Carol said.

Eventually, in probably one of the roughest rides imaginable for the injured women, they were moved into D Block with Rick, Brian, Michonne, and Carol each taking one quarter of their body in an attempt to make a human gurney.

Carol didn't want to ask, because she already dreaded the answer, but she knew it had to be asked and she could see the painful realization already swiped across Hershel's face.

"Beth?" She asked Michonne when they were leaving the cell last from putting down Milagros.

Michonne shook her head.

"Jacob didn't make it either," Michonne said. "She went down when I was trying to move them out of the barn. We're not sure when we lost him."

Carol felt her heart pounding. Hershel already knew, that was beyond doubt, but the man was pretending not to know for the moment. He was turning his attention on the two women that seemed to be the most damaged while Alice was silently trying to care for Glenn, who'd lost a good deal of blood, as though she didn't have her own injuries to worry with.

Carol understood what Hershel was doing at the moment. He was trying to focus his attention on what needed to be done now. What might save other lives. Nothing that he did at this point was going to bring the girl back, and there would be more than enough time for mourning when it was done. Carol understood that clearly, but it didn't make her heart hurt any less for him.

Maggie didn't know about her sister yet, and Glenn was in poor enough condition himself that he couldn't summon up the strength to be too deep in mourning for anyone. The cell block was packed with injured people. Some of them were minor, others more serious, but no one had come in untouched. Carol had been the only one to escape the entire ordeal with nothing more than a few bruises and scratches here or there.

Carol walked quickly outside the prison for a moment. She needed to gather herself. She needed to get some air for just a moment and then she'd be ready to go inside. The first thing that needed to be done was that everyone who had come in needed to be tended to. Those who could bathe themselves, like Tyreese and Brian, had gone to the showers to wash off the mess that covered them. The others needed to be cleaned still, some way or another. Wounds needed to be dressed, and she still had no idea what wounds they were going to find. Many, like Michonne, seemed to be wounded but were trying to hide them.

Carol needed to get herself together and get in there to help. She couldn't make it up to any of them, ever, that she had left them all. If she'd stayed behind, she could have fought with them. Whatever they had faced, she should have been there to face it with them. It could have been the difference between losing who they had and not losing them.

She finally got control of herself, took a deep breath, and headed back in. She passed by her cell first, intending to explain to Daryl what was happening and why she hadn't been back around to him. She found him sleeping, but she shook him awake.

"Somethin' wrong?" Daryl asked when he'd come around.

"They're all back now," Carol said. "Everything's over." Even as she said the words she couldn't believe them. Everything wasn't over, not really. There was so much that needed to be done, so much that needed to be taken care of. It would be a long time before it was ever really over, and it would be even longer before they'd overcome the grief and the suffering that everyone had endured.

"Everyone's back?" Daryl asked.

Carol shook her head.

"We lost Beth and we lost Jacob," she said. "Everyone else is back."

Daryl seemed to think about what she'd said for the moment. He didn't respond, though. He just looked at here again and then his hand fell over hers in her lap and he wrapped his fingers around her own. She smiled at the gesture. The looks he'd been giving her since this morning were wearing on her, so any gesture of affection was a big deal to her at the moment.

"I'm still going to get you that bath," Carol said. "And I don't want you to argue with me about it, but it might be pretty late when I do. I need to go and help the others."

Daryl nodded a little.

"Don't reckon it matters what time it is, woman," Daryl said. "I ain't seen the outside in what feels like a damn month."

Carol hung her head a little. It would be hard on Daryl to be trapped in the cell. He valued time outside the prison walls almost over everything. He didn't do well with being caged up. Still, she knew the extent of his injuries and knew that he wasn't getting up and walking around on his own right now, and she didn't have the strength to carry him herself as much as she would have wanted to do something like that for him.

"We'll get you outside soon," she said. "I promise. Everyone's back now. There are lots of people to help out. They just need a little recovery time."

She leaned over and kissed him. He didn't turn his face toward her, so she settled for kissing the corner of his mouth, letting her lips linger there for a moment just to feel his skin against hers.

"I promise, Daryl, it won't be too long," Carol said.

Daryl glanced at her, but didn't say anything, so she turned and left the cell. She walked quickly back to D Block to see where she could fall in and be the most help. Before she pushed open the door into the block, she' wiped her face, hoping that it wasn't evident that she'd been crying.

With everything that was going on and everything that had happened, the last thing she needed was people in this block knowing that she was crying over her own insecurities and petty little problems. They were likely to think, then, that her real problem was that she didn't have enough to worry about.


	65. Chapter 65

The first few days after everyone got back were unlike any that they'd had at the prison before. Hershel stayed busy, Alice stayed busy, and Carol stayed busy. There were minor injuries to take care of, and a few major ones, and D Block was packed and functioning as a kind of hospital until people could be moved.

Carol was overwhelmed with the entire thing, but she wasn't going to back out on them now. She couldn't perform any of the operations that Hershel and Alice had done on very little sleep, but she was good at making sure everyone ate and she was fine with sucking it up and cleaning up people when they couldn't take care of themselves.

Slowly, though, things were starting to calm down. Things were beginning to get under control, and one by one people were coming back into themselves and moving back into C Block on their own to try and regain some normalcy in their lives.

It remained, at the end, that Karen and Milagros were two of the worse injured of the women. Both of them were recovering from pretty serious gunshot wounds, and Milagros was still somewhat of a touch and go case, though she had her own private nurse in Cynthia who had somewhat silently dedicated herself to tending the woman.

Daryl was the worst injured of the men, many of them suffering injuries that were "mild," at least by the terminology they were using these days. They would heal, they were mobile, and they could feed and bathe themselves. Daryl wasn't there yet and according to Alice he needed time to get there if he didn't want to cause himself internal bleeding that they may not be equipped to handle.

Besides Daryl's physical injuries, though, there was something wrong with him and Carol knew it. He wasn't acting like himself. He wasn't acting like the same old Daryl that she knew. He barely interacted with anyone, herself included. She wanted to know what was wrong. She wanted him to tell her, even if it was her, what was bothering him, but she was afraid to just out and ask him. She was somewhat afraid of the answer and she was equally afraid of how he might react.

Carol was sleeping, theoretically in D Block for the time being. It wasn't safe for her to sleep with Daryl. They didn't fit that well on the cot together and they certainly didn't fit well whenever he was healing from a gunshot wound and needed to be careful of how he moved. She didn't want to hurt him, so she'd relocated. He hadn't seemed to mind, or really to even notice, though she found it almost impossible to sleep without him.

It was also impossible, with all the chaos that was going on, to find a moment alone and Carol could barely hold her emotions together. She wanted to go somewhere, to hide away from everyone and everything, and cry out everything she was storing up, but there didn't seem to be a single place that she could do that. At every turn there was someone there and she refused to cry in D Block and be overheard when there were so many other people with much bigger problems than her own.

On top of Daryl being cold, for lack of a better way to classify whatever it was he was going through, Carol also felt that everyone's eyes were burning into her. No one had said anything, but she felt like they were always questioning, always wondering, how it was that she had walked out of the entire thing like she had, with nothing to show for it all. She felt like she didn't even want to look at anyone, and she tried to avoid meeting anyone's eyes whenever it was possible to look to the side or at the floor. She didn't want to see there the accusations that they would surely hold against her. Even Hershel, she was sure, probably resented the fact that Beth had not returned, would never return, and Carol hadn't even witnessed the events that had taken his youngest daughter's life.

Finally, Carol had found her opportunity to slip away. Everything seemed settled for a bit and everyone that needed her attention had been taken care of. She couldn't find Hershel right away, but she did find Alice and told her that she was going to slip off and try to get a shower so that they would know not to be looking for her if they needed someone to help with something. Alice had nodded at her, telling her that everything was under control and to enjoy her shower, and Carol had almost run out of there to get her things and get away from everyone before anyone could ask for anything.

Once she got into the shower room, Carol threw her things onto the bench and stripped quickly. She turned on the water to mask the sounds of the sobbing she fully intended to do, and stepped into the shower stall, less concerned with bathing and more concerned with finally letting out some of the emotions that she thought were going to choke her to death.

Carol leaned her arm on the wall and her forehead against her arm. Once she finally coaxed the tears to start, they didn't need any help from her to keep coming and she didn't try to stop them at all. That wasn't what this was about. This was about finally letting them come and praying that it resolved something or at least made it feel less like an elephant was sitting on her chest the whole time.

Carol cried at least until she felt like she had nothing left to give. She quickly washed so that it wasn't obvious her entire, far too long, shower had been a hoax, and she pulled back the curtain to go and get her towel.

She stopped, her heart leaping into her throat, when she saw Alice sitting on the bench, holding her towel out to her.

"Feel better?" Alice asked.

Carol didn't know what to say. Part of her was a little bit angry that Alice had been there without announcing her presence, and another part was embarrassed that she'd been caught.

"I'm fine," Carol said, accepting her towel and drying off.

"Yeah," Alice said, smirking. "You sure sound fine to me."

"What were you listening for?" Carol asked, putting on her clothes.

Alice shook her head.

"You know…funny thing about being a lesbian is that you start to really figure women out. You see, I've got to navigate my own shit, but I've also had to learn all of Mel's shit too…and we couldn't be more fuckin' different if we gave it our best shot," Alice said. "You see, I'm more the temper tantrum throwing kid in a candy aisle kind of gal when shit doesn't go my way. Mel, she's sneaky. Won't say anything about it, but she'll mope around and slink off in a corner some damn where to get hers out. I had you pegged as the sneaky kind from the beginning."

"I'm not sneaky," Carol said. She balled up her things in her arms.

"Oh no you don't," Alice said. She patted the bench. "Have a sit down and enjoy the ambiance with me. It's like a fucking sauna in here. Good for the pores."

Carol sighed and sat down on the bench.

"I'm not sneaky," Carol repeated.

"OK, maybe sneaky isn't the right word," Alice said. "But you've been…disconnected. At first I thought it was just everything that's going on around here. Place is like a fucking madhouse and rightfully so, but then I noticed that you aren't talking to anyone about anything. Then when you were all weird about not wanting to be disturbed during this shower, when you haven't given half a fuck about a shower since we all got back from our little getaway in hell, I thought something might be up."

"You're really nosy," Carol said, "did anyone ever tell you that?"

Alice chuckled.

"I'm the nosiest damn person you'll ever meet," Alice said. "My business is the only business that I don't have my nose in."

Carol snickered.

"So what's with the bawling?" Alice asked. "I know the baby is fine, so you don't need to be worried about that. Daryl's on the mend…he's not going to be whipping my ass anytime soon, but he'll get there…so what's with the water works?"

"With everything that's happened, you have to ask why anyone's crying?" Carol asked.

Alice shrugged.

"Yeah, I do," she said.

Carol sighed. She would have cried again just trying to explain herself, but she was pretty sure that she'd actually succeeded in crying out all that she had inside her right now.

"Alice…you couldn't understand," Carol said. "I don't even know how to explain it, OK?"

"Meh," Alice said, "I'm not the psychiatrist in the family, but I do alright. Give it a shot."

"I don't know what's wrong with Daryl," Carol said. "He doesn't seem to want to talk to me…he doesn't even seem to like it when I touch him or when I'm around. I think…I don't know. I think he's mad at me and I don't know if it's the same reason everyone else is mad at me…everyone suffered so much. They've been through so much, and I just ran out on everyone."

Alice chuckled a little and reached over, pulling Carol's balled up towel out of her lap. She rolled it up and stuck it behind her head, leaning back against the wall.

"Who the fuck is mad at you?" Alice asked.

"I'm sure everyone is," Carol said. "I wasn't there, Alice."

"You don't think I know that you weren't there?" Alice asked. "That was the whole fucking idea behind the run through the woods shit, or did you miss that part? Who the fuck is pissed about it? I want to know."

"I don't know," Carol said, "but I feel like everyone has a right to be."

"You know who has a right to be pissed about that shit?" Alice asked.

Carol looked at her.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me…" she said.

"You're right I'm fucking going to tell you," Alice said. "If anyone has a right to be pissed about that shit it's me. I'm the only fucking one that might have died because of that plan. Nobody else even fucking knew about it except the samurai, and she did that shit as much to save herself as to save you. So if I'm not pissed, nobody's got a fucking right to be pissed, and since I came up with the idea it would be pretty damn complicated for me to be pissed at both of us."

"But why?" Carol asked. "Why only me?"

"You were the only one that I knew could get out of there," Alice said. "Better one than none, right? Why not you?"

Carol shrugged.

"I don't want people feeling like they have to save me or they have to die for me," Carol said. "I'm not OK with that."

Alice chuckled again.

"Carol, I was pretty damn certain we were all going to die. You were the only one that had any fucking chance of escaping because you just happened to tickle the fancy of a psychopath who wanted to dress you up and play fucking house with you. I didn't know if you'd get out of there or if someone would shoot you in the fucking back, honestly. Same with the samurai. The only damn difference is I _told_ her she'd probably get shot in the back and I didn't tell you that shit," Alice said. "You got your own ass out of there, all I did was set up the possibility. Nobody saved you…you saved your fucking self."

"But Michonne didn't go with me," Carol said.

"Her decision," Alice said. "She had exactly the same opportunity that you did. She said she'd set up a diversion in the woods to buy you a little more time, but that was just because she knew she could run faster. I don't know how the hell she ended up back there, but that wasn't part of the plan."

Carol hadn't realized that Michonne had actually run with her. She wondered, though, what it was that made Michonne turn back.

"She went back to help," Carol said. "I just kept going."

"Mother's instinct," Alice said. "Whether or not you're aware of it, you'll do whatever you have to do to save that baby, and that's just the way nature intended it. You got yourself out, yes, but you got the baby out of danger too. Michonne didn't have anyone to save but herself."

Carol shook her head.

"I don't know…" she said. "I don't know if it's that simple."

"Ah…but you must trust me," Alice said, narrowing her eyes. "I'm the doctor. I know all kinds of doctory shit. Besides, I told you, I'm in everyone's business. No one hates you. No one has a single damn thing to say about the fact that you got out, and if they do, it's just because they're jealous that Henry didn't pick their ass instead of yours. If he hadn't picked you, I wouldn't have gotten you out, Carol. As awesome as I think you are, if you'd been in that barn with most of the rest of the people, your ass would have been right there with them when the shit hit the fan."

Carol nodded. It made her feel a little better to think that her escape had been circumstantial and not really personal, but she still felt bad about it.

"Survivor's guilt," Alice said.

"What?" Carol asked.

Alice reached over, pulling Carol's hand into her lap and wrapped her hands around it.

"Survivor's guilt," Alice repeated. "You feel guilty because you made it out, you survived, and others weren't so lucky. Doesn't have to have a damn thing to do with you and doesn't have to be legitimate for shit. It happens."

"I thought you weren't the psychiatrist of the family," Carol said.

Alice chuckled.

"I'm not, but I fuckin' live with one and she diagnoses my ass on an hourly basis," Alice said. "Now what's up with Daryl?"

Carol shook her head, feeling the tears come up again. She thought they were all out, but apparently there were some still lingering.

"I don't know. He seems angry with me and I don't know what I did, really," Carol said.

"So ask him what his fucking problem is," Alice said.

"I don't want to make him mad…" Carol said. "I don't know what it is and I don't want to make it worse."

Alice sighed.

"Ah, our baby boy…" She said, playing with Carol's hand. "He doesn't know how to use his words yet, at least not most of the time. Ask him anyway, Carol. So what if he gets pissed? He's already acting pissed, right? So what's it really matter if he gets more pissed? At least you'll know what the hell's going on with him and you can hash it out."

Carol squeezed Alice's hand with the one that she'd been toying with.

"So you followed me in here to fix my problems, is that it?" Carol asked.

Alice smiled.

"Well, that's just a bonus. Really I need a favor from you," Alice said.

"What?" Carol asked.

"Well, Mel's asleep and she can't do it and Hershel's having some kind of family prayer meeting with Glenn and Maggie and I don't want to bust up in that, so do you think you could come and clean my oozy, nasty, and somewhat crusty brand?" Alice asked.

Carol made a face at her explanation.

"I can clean it for you," Carol said, "if that's what you really came down here for."

"I told you it was one of the fucking reasons," Alice said. "Crusty ass burns are not good burns."

Carol shook her head.

"I'm sorry that happened to you all," Carol said.

Alice stood up and pulled on the hand she'd been holding and hadn't released yet.

"Come on," she said. "And don't be sorry. Hurt like a motherfucker, but that shit's going to be cool as hell when it's healed. My parents almost shit their pants when I got my tattoo, but now I've got my own fucking brand. That's hardcore right there."

Carol shook her head, snickering a little.

"I'm not sure about you sometimes," Carol said.

"Eh…" Alice said. "We'll just say I did a lot of drugs before med school, how's that?"

Carol laughed.

"That makes me feel better about the fact that you're supposed to be monitoring the health of my child," Carol said.

"Hey!" Alice said, pulling Carol toward the bathroom door. "That little fucker's already survived two madmen and five and a half months of prison life. That's a bad ass little fucker…and I haven't let him down yet."

Carol snickered and held the door while Alice slipped out of it, heading toward her office for Carol to have a look at the supposedly crusty burn.


	66. Chapter 66

Carol slipped into the cell after all the breakfast dishes were done. She finally had a few minutes to herself and there was nothing that she could focus on doing besides sitting down to talk with Daryl. She couldn't handle another day of the semi silence and grunts instead of words. She was worn down by the angry stares and fleeting glances of a man that she loved as much as she loved her own life. One way or the other she had to know what was wrong with Daryl and if she was the problem she could at least deal with her grief over that instead of spending her days worrying and her nights not sleeping for fear of what he'd finally say was bothering him.

Daryl was lying somewhat on his side, staring off into space. He'd eaten his breakfast in silence and Carol had left him alone to finish it, only dropping by to pick up his plate. She would have offered him a book to read or something to entertain him, but with the looks that he gave her she was almost afraid to say anything.

Carol came into the cell and lowered herself gently to sit on the edge of the bed, not wanting to jostle Daryl too much. He turned slightly to look at her and then focused his attention again on some obviously invisible spot on the wall.

Carol took a few deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves. They were taking control right now and she didn't want them to get the best of her and send her fleeing the cell before she had any kind of answer. If anyone walked out on this conversation right now then she'd only have herself to blame because Daryl couldn't go anywhere if he wanted to.

"What's wrong with ya?" Daryl asked suddenly. "Ya breathin' funny."

Carol turned and looked at him, a little surprised that he was speaking and more surprised that he noticed anything about her. She was beginning to wonder if she'd become invisible to him.

"What did I do, Daryl? Is it something that I can undo or am I just going to have to accept it?" Carol asked.

"What the hell ya talkin' 'bout?" Daryl asked. Carol looked at his face and he looked almost annoyed, probably by her presence.

"What did I do to make you hate me? I've been wracking my brain, Daryl, and besides this whole kidnapping thing, I just can't figure out what I've done! I didn't do this on purpose!" Carol said, suddenly becoming desperate.

"I don't hate ya," Daryl said softly, looking away from Carol again.

"Then what is it, Daryl? Are you worried about what happened? I promise you that the man that picked me didn't hardly touch me. He didn't care about me at all. He just wanted the baby," Carol said.

Daryl grimaced a little and Carol felt her heart clench. She took a few more deep breaths trying to steady herself.

"What, Daryl? Am I contaminated now or something? What is it? Please just tell me," Carol said.

Daryl sat there for a second, brooding, and then he reached and took Carol's hand. She closed her eyes, waiting for some kind of response.

"I don't hate ya an' ya ain't fuckin' contaminated," Daryl said.

Carol felt the tears rolling out of her eyes now and she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"Then what is it?" She asked. "What's wrong with me?"

"Ya cry too damn much, but other than that ya ain't done nothin'," Daryl said. "Ain't nothin' wrong with ya, neither…not that I know about."

It was Carol's turn to be confused now. She almost laughed to herself thinking about Alice's comment that Daryl hadn't learned to use his words yet.

"What's wrong, Daryl?" Carol asked. "Talk to me. Remember? We promised each other that we were going to talk about things. I'm talking to you, so now you've got to tell me what's wrong. We can fix it."

"Can't fix this," Daryl said, shaking his head a little.

"Daryl there's nothing that can't be fixed," Carol said. "Not if you're willing to try to fix it. Tell me what's wrong?"

Daryl shifted his weight slowly in the bed and Carol wiggled forward to give him more room, but he held tight to her hand. He chewed at his thumb looking conflicted.

"I couldn't take care of ya," he said. "I didn't protect ya an' I didn't come after ya. If ya was waitin' on me ta save ya then ya wouldn'ta come back, Carol, 'cause I weren't comin'."

Carol was struck. She almost didn't know what to say and she didn't know how to process Daryl's facial expression. It dawned on her now that this wasn't about her. It wasn't about her and it wasn't about the baby. It was about Daryl and he was pushing her away, as he liked to try to do, because he felt like he'd let her down or something.

Carol shook her head at him, trying not to cry anymore.

"You got shot, Daryl," Carol said. "You would have come after me if you could have, and I know that. That's what kept me from freaking out in the first place, Daryl. It's what got me out of there."

"I weren't comin', Carol. I was here, tied to a damn bed, an' I weren't comin'," Daryl said. He looked angry again, but Carol ignored it.

"You would have come, though. If you could have come, you would have come," Carol said. She shifted around so she was facing him better and didn't have her back to him so much. "Daryl, I got out of there. Alice and Michonne, they set it up for me to get out. I got out. Alice even lied to me. She told me you were in the woods…told me she saw you, talked to you…and you were out there waiting for me."

"I wasn't fuckin' waitin' on ya!" Daryl snapped. "Don't ya get it? I wasn't there! I still wouldn't be there, Carol. I weren't comin'!"

Carol jumped back a little at his tone of voice.

"Daryl, the point is that thinking you were there…thinking you were coming…just having that thought of you in my _mind_ got me out of there. I took the chance I had and I got out. I got _our_ baby out of there, Daryl, and it was because I had you there in my mind pushing me to do it," Carol said.

She absentmindedly tugged her hand to try to wipe at her face and realized Daryl very nearly had it in a death grip so she used the other instead. He was looking at her, studying her for a moment, but she also got the feeling that he was looking through her. His eyes were looking at her, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

"Daryl," Carol said after a minute, "don't blame yourself for being human? OK? Everything went crazy and everyone had to deal with their situation. I don't know what you want me to do or what I'm supposed to say, but I'm not mad at you for getting shot. Don't be mad at me for getting taken right along with everyone else. I don't know how to make that better for you."

"I told ya I ain't mad at ya," Daryl said.

"Don't be mad at yourself either," Carol said.

"I'm glad ya back an' that ya Ok…and that the baby's OK…" Daryl said. "I just wish I coulda been there ta help ya an' the others too."

Carol wrenched her hand free from him then and rubbed his face, brushing his hair back with her fingertips.

"You don't have to be everybody's hero all the time," she said. "You don't have to save everyone."

Daryl nodded a little, but Carol could tell that he didn't really feel better. She didn't know if this was just one of those things that was going to have to pass with time or not. She supposed that, much like the guilt that she felt when she looked at everyone else, it was something that he was going to have to deal with. He hadn't done anything wrong, but part of who Daryl was, or who he thought he was, had to do with him taking care of others and he felt like he'd let her down, he'd let the baby down, and on top of that he'd let everyone else in the prison down. Carol knew it wasn't really the case, but feelings could be difficult to talk to sometimes.

Carol leaned in the best she could and kissed him. He brought his head up, this time, meeting her, his hand going to the back of her head and pulling her down tighter against his mouth. Their tongues tangled and she sighed into him, relieved to know that he didn't hate her. He wasn't better, and he might not be for a while, but he knew she didn't blame him for not coming and she knew that he thought he had let her down, when it wasn't true.

"I don't gotta save everyone," he said when they broke apart, "but I wanted ta save you."

Carol smiled.

"You've save me a million different ways, Daryl," Carol said. "I guess sometimes I can work on saving myself."

Daryl nodded his head a little, no real conviction behind it. Carol didn't know if she should leave him alone with his thoughts or if she should stay with him. She wanted to stay there, just to be with him, but she didn't want to crowd him if he needed to be alone with his thoughts.

"Do you want me to leave?" She asked.

Daryl shook his head.

Carol smiled a little at him. She would stay there all day if he wanted her to, but she knew that she couldn't stay perched on the end of the cot like that. The position was uncomfortable even if she could sit normally but she was fighting a war against herself trying not to lean back on him and give into the sinking mattress and also trying to avoid the uncomfortable pressure of leaning forward.

She stood up finally, pushing herself up off the cot.

"Tell you what," she said. "I've got to do some mending for a few people. I'll bring my chair and my laundry basket in here and I'll keep you company while you rest. Sound good?"

Daryl nodded, but didn't really say anything. Carol smiled again and turned around to go in search of the mending so that at least she could excuse her absence from the group with a necessary chore around the prison.

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Carol slid her chair right next to the bed and put the back if it against the little nightstand they had. She was leaned back in the chair now, her feet propped on the side of the bed, and she was sewing up a hole in someone's shirt, though she'd long since quit looking at whose clothes she was mending.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been at it, but she'd worked her way through a good bit of the basket. Her fingers were throbbing and her eyes were killing her. She didn't want to admit it, but the constant living by flickering lamps and the occasional light bulb when they could spare the electricity was wreaking havoc on her eyes. Her vision had been blurry lately at best, and it didn't make the mending and other careful tasks she'd done without a problem for so long any easier. She worried, too, because it wasn't exactly like you could run down to the eye doctor and get a pair of glasses without even thinking about it. You just sort of had to struggle through it.

Carol finally grew frustrated from trying to will her eyes to keep from going in and out in this sort of blurry haze. She decided they were likely tired and returned the needle to the pin cushion and the garments to the basket by her side for a bit. Daryl was probably still sleeping, so she just sat quietly, her hands folded across her belly and her eyes closed.

Carol felt Daryl rubbing the side of her leg and she turned, seeing he was awake now. He wasn't really looking at her, but his fingers were rubbing back and forth on the part of her thigh that he could reach.

"Sit with me?" He asked after a minute, without looking at her. She thought she'd start crying just from an offer that simple.

"Think you can stand for me to slide back? Sit with my back against the wall?" She asked.

The only response he made was to slowly move himself over to clear a space for her. She got up and moved her chair over, sliding herself into the space where she normally slept and tried to carefully walk herself backwards to sit against the wall. Daryl offered her one of the pillows and she propped up on it, leaning back and running her fingers through his hair.

He didn't say anything else, and she didn't push it. At least she knew that he wanted her near him, even if he didn't have anything to say at the moment. She sighed and closed her eyes again, just sitting in the room with him, knowing they'd be interrupted before too long because she'd need to help with dinner. Melodye would start it without her, but it was a daunting task to try to get the whole meal going on your own and these days it was hard to know who you could count on to cook. Karen and Milagros both were still somewhat out of commission, and Maggie was a little flighty with her emotions.

Carol felt Daryl press his warm palm against her belly and she looked down at him. He very seldom voluntarily touched her belly, and she didn't want to say anything in case it might embarrass him. The baby was still right now, though, and she wished she had the power to will it to move without moving herself.

"You can talk to it, you know," Carol said, finally. Daryl shifted a little, looking up at her then. She smiled. "It can hear you. I think it likes the noise sometimes."

Daryl didn't say anything, he just kept his hand resting there. Carol finally brought her own hand down and probed around a bit, trying to convince the baby to kick or move or give Daryl something since he was too timid to go in search for it on his own. She tried to telepathically tell the little thing that Daddy was trying, and he needed a little encouragement.

Finally she bothered it enough that she felt the baby squirm and kick and she moved Daryl's hand to the spot where he'd most likely feel it. He still didn't say anything, but he kept his hand there even after the movement stopped. Carol kept hers over his. At least he was trying.

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Carol, Melodye, and Alice were making dinner for the night. They had the fires started already and Alice was opening cans of things and separating them out into contents that might go together for Melodye while Carol was working on getting the fires going well.

"We need to bring out those electric heaters from storage," Alice said. "It's going to be the easiest way to heat the prison at this point and it's less stress on the generators than trying to run a heating unit."

"Says the all-knowing queen of generators?" Melodye asked. "Alice, you'd never even _seen_ a generator before all this happened."

"I'd never seen a dead person walking around either, but I still had pretty good ideas about the fact that they'd be some fucking bad news and I was right about that shit," Alice said.

"I don't know about it either," Carol said, "but I think Alice has a point. We don't use most of the prison so heating all of it would be a waste. Might as well just heat the cell block. Cram whoever's staying in D into C in those final unoccupied cells if we have to."

"If they need to stay in D that's fine too," Alice said. "Glenn cleaned out a bunch of those heaters from a warehouse. We could easily heat both areas."

As they threw ideas, back and forth, and started to empty contents of cans into pots, Glenn caught their attention calling from the guard tower. All three of them turned to look at him, seeking out the best way to hear and understand what he was yelling.

"Trucks coming!" Glenn called back. "Two, pulling trailers or something. Headed for the gate!"

Carol struggled to her feet from where she was and Alice had already hit hers, though Melodye seemed to think staying low to the ground was in their best interest. They could already see the two trucks rolling up the little road toward the gate.

"Holy fucking shit!" Alice spat. "What do we do?"

"We don't know who it is, Alice," Carol said. "Could be someone who doesn't mean any harm."

She was a little worried herself about the approaching trucks. The past few days hadn't exactly reinforced all their beliefs about human kindness and such. Toward the gates she could see that Carl was hiding behind one of the trucks that was down there and Michonne had her katana out, limping a little back and forth in a pacing movement.

Carol wasn't sure if they were supposed to be defending themselves or not, but it was more than clear that everyone was at least a little jumpy. She realized, then, that she only had a knife on her, and she didn't know if the two women with her were armed or not, though Alice typically at least had a knife.

The trucks pulled up to the gates and stopped. The door to the first of the trucks opened and even from the distance, Carol knew immediately who it was when Wyatt crawled out the cab.

"Wyatt!" She said.

"What the fuck are you on about?" Alice asked.

Carol started toward the gates with Alice right behind her, Melodye still having not moved from her position.

"Let him in!" Carol called. "Let him in!"

She saw Carl come from around the truck where he was hiding and start toward the gates as well, presumably to let Wyatt pass.

By the time that Carol made it to the gates with Alice at her heels, Michonne and Carl had heaved them back. Wyatt waved at her as he drove the truck through the gates, pulling a large covered trailer behind him. The second truck that had been parked behind him lurched forward, easing by as well and she could immediately see that Ned was maneuvering it and the trailer it pulled. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face seeing the thin old man behind the wheel.

Michonne and Carl closed the gates and abandoned their positions guarding them to walk toward the prison with Carol and Alice. Everyone outside anxious to find out about the new visitors, and Carol anxious for a reunion.

When they got to the prison and the three people in the trucks had spilled out, Carol wasn't sure who to hug first. Finally she went and hugged Ned, who wrapped his arms around her, chuckling a little.

"Well, look at ya. Look a whole lot happier now than ya did," Ned said.

Carol smiled.

"I'm home!" She said. "I didn't expect you to come!"

"Well we weren't planning on coming," Ned explained. "Didn't sound too safe and all. Then two nights ago a bunch of them dead got ahold of a couple more chickens and some pigs, and a good number of them got themselves a mighty strong interest in our front porch. We thought we might do a little better if we had some fences and we already knew a pretty girl was living here so we figured we might give it a try."

Carol laughed at him.

"We're happy to have you!" She said, only vaguely realizing that she hadn't talked about it with any of the others at the prison, she'd made the invitation all her own.

Glenn was out the tower now and wandering around, looking in the slits on the tops of the trailers. He walked around, finally, and stood near them.

"Glenn," he said, finally, offering his hand to Ned. Ned shook it.

"Ned," he responded. "That's my granddaughter Imogene, and my grandson Wyatt."

"What's in the trailers?" Glenn asked.

Ned looked back at the trailers as though it was a question he needed to consider for a moment.

"In the one I hauled in we got Jake, Hollie, and Mae. In the one that Wyatt there drove we got what's left of the chickens, three pigs, a Billy that's ornery as all get out, his Nanny, and the only kid we got left. Rest of it's everything we got that was worth bringing along. Some food and supplies. We ain't really got nothing fancy, but we willing to share what we got," Ned replied.

Glenn didn't see bothered by Carol's invitation to the three people to stay there and Carol wasn't sure if it was owing to the fact that her story had gotten around or that it was owing to the fact that he decided to trust them so long as she so obviously trusted them. Whatever the case may be, he wasn't questioning it and neither was anybody around them.

"We'll need to talk to Tyreese, I guess," Glenn said. "We can get some pens and shelters built for the animals. What's a Jake, Hollie, and Mae?"

Ned chuckled.

"Jake's a mule, Hollie's a hinny, and Mae's just an old dairy cow, but she prefers their company to the Billy because he has a bad habit of headbutting any and everything. Gotta watch him or he'll take ya clean off ya feet," Ned responded. Imogene and Wyatt stood quietly near their grandfather, awaiting some indication of what they should do.

Glenn shrugged.

"I'm going to get Rick and Tyreese," he said. "We can do something temporary for the animals until tomorrow and we can do a run for some extra building supplies. Melodye can show you where you can stay and you can unload the rest of your stuff."

Carol turned then and watched as Melodye approached, waving her arm like she was about to lead their new group members on some grand tour of their new home. The three followed her and Carol turned back to Alice to finish with dinner while Michonne and Carl started back across the yard to their posts.

"I always wanted my own giant," Alice said as she joined Carol back at the pots where they were cooking. Carol chuckled.

"Wyatt looks like a handful, but he's more of the big friendly giant than the kind that crushes your bones to make his bread," she said.

"Well he can be our new mascot or something. You know, like hey you assholes, better not fuck with us, we got our own fucking giant," Alice teased.

She chuckled and dumped a few of the remaining cans into the pots that were beginning to boil now over the low fires.

"I think I better go and get a couple more cans of food," Alice said. "Something tells me that's a man that can do some eating!"

Carol chuckled and examined what they had already warming.

"Yeah, you might grab a few more cans," she said. "We don't want them to think we're starving them to death on their first night here."

Alice saluted her and trotted inside to bring more of the mystery fare that they had to offer. Carol set about stirring the pots, surprised at how pleased she was to see the three of them. Carol didn't know exactly how well the three of them would blend with the tapestry of the group, but she was sure that their presence couldn't hurt.


	67. Chapter 67

**AN: So here's a little something. I'm just getting settled in today to working my new schedule…things really start to pick up big time on Wednesday (now that I've got the schedule) so I'm just letting you know that I'll update as frequently as I can, but I really have no idea how often that will be. **

**As always, I thank you for your support, your reviews, your PMs, your comments, etc. It all means the world to me and I'm so glad to know you enjoy the story! **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter! **

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"You know, you're about the worst fucking patient anyone has ever had," Alice growled at Daryl.

He was sitting in his bed, which to her was supposed to be some kind of vast improvement. Sitting. Hell he'd been sitting since before he could remember. He didn't want her walking around him telling him how damn good he was doing just because she let him fucking sit up. He was ready to be out of the bed, he was ready to be out of the cell, and he was even ready to be out of the fucking prison for a while. The walls were closing in on him and it made him want to choke the life out of everyone.

For as bad as he felt physically, that didn't have shit on how he felt otherwise. The entire situation had gone to hell in a hand basket and some madmen had come and snatched away his wife, his kid, his whole damn extended family, and he hadn't done a single fucking thing about it but sit back and hope to hell that someone else did what he was supposed to do.

Some of the people were back and fine, some were injured, and some hadn't even made it back, and he hadn't been one fucking bit of help to any of them. Carol tried to pretend that it didn't bother her that he hadn't come to save her. She tried to pretend that it did something for her to know that she'd gotten out even though he hadn't come, but he couldn't believe that she really felt that way. He'd let her down and he'd let the kid down too. Who could say that some shit wouldn't happen like this again and then she wouldn't make it back…and he wouldn't be able to save her.

And now he had this annoying bitch insisting that he was doing great, just fucking marvelous, and that he could sit up now…all by himself…like fucking Judith or some shit like that. She kept insisting that his injuries were serious, that he needed to rest and take things slow, and so on and so forth. No one even mentioned the fact that he'd let every single fucking one of them down.

"I'm gettin' outta this fuckin' bed," Daryl growled.

"And just how do you presume to do that?" Alice asked, putting her hands on her hips. "I don't know if you noticed but we were both kind of wrestling your ass into this position in the first damn place. You need to just take it slow. Shit doesn't happen overnight."

Daryl didn't want to hear it. He literally felt like he'd go crazy if he stayed another moment in that cell and he was getting sick of being waited on hand and foot. Carol was always in there and it was humiliating. It didn't matter that she was his wife, he didn't want her having to do every single damn thing for him like he was a baby himself. He wasn't used to not being able to take care of himself at all.

"I ain't stayin' here so ya best figure it tha fuck out. Ya s'posed ta be some kinda fuckin' genius, ain't'cha?" Daryl asked.

Alice chuckled.

"I wish!" She responded. "Listen, Daryl, the best I can do is to move your hard headed ass to a chair outside somewhere and you can sit. That's as far as you fucking go. You shouldn't be doing that, but I'm going to kill you if you don't get your fucking attitude under control. You're worse than a damn queen about some shit."

Daryl didn't like the idea of just sitting in a chair outside somewhere, but it was better than staying in the cell and he figured if he could get her to let him get up and go to the chair, he could just tough it out and prove to her that he didn't need to be fucking babied and then she'd back the hell off of him.

"Fine, let's go tha fuck outside, then," Daryl said. "I ain't stayin' in this damn bed no damn more, though."

Alice huffed. Daryl almost laughed at her because her face was red and she almost looked like her eyes would bug out of her head soon.

"Who the fuck do you want to help carry your ass out?" She asked.

Daryl eyed her. That hadn't been in the agreement. He wasn't being fucking carried no damn where. He intended to walk out on his own two feet and that would be that.

"I'm fuckin' walkin'. Think ya done bumped ya fuckin' head ya think some asshole's gonna _carry_ my ass," Daryl said.

"The asshole will be the one being carried," Alice hissed. "Daryl I don't think you've got the stamina to walk out there and if you start to fall on me there's not much I'm going to be able to do to stop it. Now I'm trying to be serious here. If you fall you're going to fuck shit up worse and then you're really going to be fucking screwed. You're not getting out of this bed without help so you better think right now who the fuck you want helping get your annoying ass out that door."

"If I wanna get up," Daryl dared, "I don't reckon ya gonna stop me."

Alice narrowed her eyes at him and leaned in about an inch from his face.

"I am _not_ a mentally stable individual and if you keep fucking with me I'll break your ankles and make sure they heal after every single other part of your fucking body so that walking will be the last damn thing you do without assistance," Alice said. She stood up straight. "I'm going to move a chair to a nice sunny spot for you." She smiled. "When I get back, you're going to tell me who the fuck is going to help us get you outside. Got me, darling?"

Daryl grumbled under his breath at her, but decided to sit back against the wall and wait. As much as he wanted to get up out of bed and redeem himself for the shame that he'd suffered, he had to admit that sitting wasn't as simple as he'd thought it would be. He supposed that just once or twice he could suck it up and let Rick help him…just until he got used to things.

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Carol was wandering down near the lower part of the prison yard where every able body that could contribute anything to building was working on putting up fences and shelter for the animals that Ned and his grandchildren had brought to the prison. Carol was on break, but she was proud of the fact that she'd actually been responsible for putting up several of the pieces of the pig pen, and she'd only smashed her finger twice in the process.

She wasn't sure why Alice had disappeared with Rick earlier, but it wasn't uncommon for Alice to be up to something.

Everyone was at least getting back on their feet to some degree, though Carol knew that the emotional healing was going to take a lot longer for some of them than the physical healing was going to take. Many of the women who had been taken had been severely beaten and branded. Carol wasn't sure what other nightmares had befallen people, and many of them simply preferred not to talk about it with anyone, although Melodye was attempting to get people to talk with her. If nothing else happened to any of them, they all had one thing in common, a lot of their security had been taken away from them. Though the fences did a good job of keeping out Walkers, and though they appeared to be secure, it was difficult to feel really safe within them when the crazy man's army, as they'd come to think of it, had simply found their way inside and seen off with everyone without stirring up so much as a small fight inside. Granted, the circumstances had been just right and they'd probably not staged the attack on a whim, but it was too much for everyone to remain fully comfortable and under the assumption that within the prison they were untouchable.

Since many people still needed Alice's assistance with this or that, though, Carol didn't pay it any attention that the woman was always running back and forth…until she glanced toward the prison and saw that Alice and Rick were bringing Daryl outside.

Carol had asked Alice about when it would be possible to move Daryl. He was more than miserable being trapped in the cell and his mood was getting worse by the day. Alice and Hershel both felt that because of his injuries and the surgeries that Hershel had to perform to keep him from simply bleeding out, Daryl was going to take some time to build up the stamina necessary for regular things. Alice assured Carol that he would fully recover, but recovery was simply a slow road and not a highway. Carol understood that, but Daryl didn't.

They said, though, that maybe by the end of the week he might be making short trips outside or to the dinner table. Today wasn't supposed to be a day of walking about, it was just supposed to be a day of sitting up straight in the bed.

Carol crossed the prison yard in a hurry, and made it to where they were situating Daryl just as Rick was about to take his leave. Rick started back in the direction of the construction, casting a glance at Carol that she could only interpret as a warning that Daryl was being snarly.

"Is everything OK?" Carol asked as she approached.

"Just wonderful," Alice said. "And this is your problem now. I think his little trip from the cell to here was enough to let him know that his marathon will have to hold off until tomorrow, but he's still being his normal charming self. I've got to go and check on my more agreeable patients, but I'll be back in about a half an hour or so to see if he's tuckered out."

"Fuck ya, I ain't no invalid," Daryl said.

"Such a sweetie," Alice said, roughly pinching Daryl's cheek. She turned to Carol, rolling her eyes. "Let me know if you need any help with him." She plastered on a smile and started inside.

Daryl fished a cigarette out of the jacket that he was wearing and lit it.

"You want me to keep you company?" Carol asked.

Daryl rolled his eyes up toward her and she could tell that he wasn't in the greatest of moods. Being outside was what he wanted and what he'd been begging for, but she doubted he'd expected to be so tired from such a short journey.

"I'm going to get a chair," she said. "Don't try to go anywhere."

Daryl grunted and Carol went in as quickly as she could to get a chair and drag it out beside his. She put it down and sat beside him, quiet, not knowing if he was really looking for conversation at the moment. Whether it was the cigarette or the air, though, he looked a little more relaxed by the time she got back.

"The fuck is goin' on out here?" Daryl asked, looking in the direction of where they were building the animal pens."

"I told you, Daryl. Ned and his grandkids are here now. They brought what was left of their farm, so we've got to get some kind of housing in place for the animals before the cold really sets in," Carol said. She'd explained the situation to Daryl in great detail once before, but apparently he'd only been half listening.

"We got a fuckin' rabbit pen inside," Daryl said. "And now we're buildin' all this?"

"Rabbits in D Block is one thing, but having a mule walking around in there or a bunch of chickens loose might disturb those of us who are trying to sleep there," Carol said.

"When ya movin' back ta the cell?" Daryl asked. "Or ya just figurin' on stayin' in D Block forever?"

Carol ignored the bite to his comments. She wasn't in D Block because she had any great affection for the location and certainly not because she preferred to sleep alone in what she considered to be a strange place over sleeping securely in her cell with the man that she loved. He might be in a surly mood and he might try to twist it that way, but the reality of the situation was that he couldn't lie on his side for very long and she couldn't fit in the cot with him any other way.

"I guess I'll be moving back as soon as you're well enough for us to sleep together," Carol said. "I don't intend to stay there forever…but at the moment there isn't much of a choice."

"I'd rather ya not be so far away," Daryl said.

Carol wondered if, perhaps, that was one of the things that was contributing to Daryl's overall mood. She knew that she wasn't sleeping well without him, and though he wouldn't care to admit it, she thought it could be possible that he wasn't resting as much without her. Not sharing their cell together had also cut down on their interactions that didn't have to do with her taking care of him, and when she was tending him they seldom had any quality interaction because he seemed to feel like needing her help shamed him or something.

"Daryl, I want…more than anything right now…to be able to come back to the cell," Carol said. "I don't like sleeping there either. We just don't fit in the bed together, though, and I'm not going to risk you being hurt."

Daryl bit at his thumbnail, a sure sign that in some way he hadn't liked what she said. She didn't blame him for this and she didn't hold the separation against him, but likewise she didn't want him to hold it against her.

"I could move some mattresses in there," Carol said. "You slept in there when I couldn't have you in the bed with me. We made it work then."

Carol had made the suggestion more than once but every time it was made Daryl shot it down. She waited for it and sure enough he began grumbling a few minutes after that.

"Ain't havin' ya sleep on the fuckin' floor," Daryl growled.

"Daryl, I wouldn't be on the floor," Carol said. "I would be on mattresses. I bet it would be more comfortable than where you're sleeping."

Carol didn't know if it was true or not, and she didn't know how long she could sleep on the floor before her body started aching from it, but she would be willing to give it a shot. She'd do anything at this point to start bringing back some normalcy. She thought it would do them both good.

"Ain't havin' ya sleep on the floor," Daryl said again, a little softer this time. "It ain't happenin'."

Carol sighed. She sat in silence beside Daryl for some time and they both watched the work that was taking place. Carol was turning over things in her mind, trying to figure out how she could convince Daryl to at least let her try one night on the floor. If she hated it or it really seemed impossible, she could always go back to D Block, but if it did anything at all to improve Daryl's mood, she would tough it out. If his mood got better, then he might actually physically improve faster, since Carol felt like all his self-hatred right now wasn't helping his healing process.

She wished she knew what to do for him, but nothing she said seemed to work and he refused to talk to Melodye about his feelings. That wasn't a Dixon thing to do, apparently. Carol knew he thought he'd let her down, somehow, and let the baby down. She felt like, though, he'd get over these inadequate feelings or whatever if she could somehow get him over the hump and get him improving. Once he started getting better then he'd realize that he was still the same old Daryl, and he could still do all the things that he once had.

It wasn't only him that had been caught offguard in the attack, after all, it had been all of them…yet he seemed to be the only one that wanted to insist on carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Carol thought, though, that she might have an idea.

"Daryl, can you stay put for a bit?" Carol asked.

Daryl grumbled and dug through his pocket for another cigarette. She left him with his bad mood and went to get Wyatt and Tyreese, hoping that her plan had some success.

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Carol had disappeared with Tyreese and some big fellow that Daryl assumed must be one of the new people to come to the group. He had no idea what she was doing, but apparently whatever it was, it was more interesting than being with him because she hadn't bothered to come back. Alice had finally returned, and she summoned Rick, and she'd demanded that Daryl go back inside. Supposedly he could come back out and sit, like Hershel and Judith, the next day for a little while. He was considering asking if he was going to get a fucking lap blanket and some bedroom shoes.

When they helped him back to the cell, though, he wasn't sure what was going on at first. Carol was standing outside of it, smiling that genuine, beaming smile that he hadn't seen in some time. She moved out of the way when they all shuffled through and when Daryl passed into the cell he was surprised to see that the space had been rearranged.

Now the cell was very crowded, but the nightstand had been moved over and wedged between the wall and a second cot that someone had brought in and put flush against their old bed.

"Well?" Carol asked, coming in behind him. "What do you think? We got a double bed. I got Tyreese to wire the two beds together so they wouldn't slide apart. You're going to have to switch sides with me, since you can't crawl over me or crawl over the bottom of the bed yet, but we can sleep together now."

Daryl wasn't exactly sure what he thought. He hadn't been expecting this at all. He liked it, though, and the idea of sleeping with Carol again excited him more than he would have imagined. He felt like he hadn't been near her, hardly, since she'd come back. It was easy to believe that she didn't want to be near him, and it was easy to believe that she preferred sleeping in D Block because she was disappointed in him, but it was a lot harder to believe that when he was looking at her rough made double bed and the fact that she was beaming like she'd just done the greatest thing in the world.

"Ya think it's gonna work?" Daryl asked. He really didn't want to get his hopes up.

"Sure it's going to work. Watch…Alice, Rick, can you help Daryl in bed over there?" Carol asked.

The two people helping him support his weight against his impending fatigue helped him into the narrow space, just wide enough for the little table to fit, and eased him down. He sat on the edge of the bed and Alice helped him lie down. He was pretty good at the up and down part on his own, but the getting starting part still required a little assistance. Daryl lie on his back then and watched as Carol crawled over the bottom of the other bed and crawled up the mattress, coming to lie on it beside him. She turned on her side and grinned at him, reaching her hand out and wrapping his in it.

"See? It works great!" Carol said.

Alice stood in the narrow space, her hands on her hips, looking at both of them.

"How well are those things wired together?" She asked.

"Tyreese wired them both at the top and the bottom and then he laced wire between the two frames all the way down," Carol said.

"Did you test the strength of the seam?" Alice asked.

Carol nodded.

"Thought of that too," Carol said. "We had Wyatt sit right in the middle. We figured if it didn't spit with him sitting on it then Daryl and I rolling onto it wasn't going to send it flying. Plus the table's in there so tight it pretty much braces it too."

Alice nodded.

"Fine, as long as neither of you are going spilling to the floor in the middle of the night. Just promise me when recuperation is more advanced and you're planning on taking the bologna pony out for a midnight ride you stay to one side or the other, got it? I'd hate to scrape either of your asses off the floor, but I'd really fuckin' hate to do it while you're all…just no…one side or the fucking other," Alice said.

Daryl felt his cheeks burn, but Carol giggled.

"That's a deal," Carol said.

"OK, then…I'm out," Alice said. She started out the cell. "If you need anything, yell at me and I'll find you."

"Well?" Carol asked, running her hand up Daryl's arm. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah," Daryl said. "I like it."

Carol got up and crawled over, and Daryl found himself suddenly nervous about the space between the beds.

"Be careful," he said.

Carol smiled at him.

"Daryl, this thing is sturdy. Tyreese wired it together. It's not going anywhere just with me sitting on it," Carol said. She leaned over, kissing him and he leaned his head up a little to meet her mouth. He reached around her with his left arm and pulled her against him a little, trying to hold her off the seam between the two beds. It might be sturdy, and there might not be any way that the two beds were coming apart, but he didn't want to take the chance, even if the fall would be minimal.

He realized, though, that he really couldn't do anything in this position if the beds were to slide apart. Having his arm there made him feel a little better, but realistically he was more or less powerless.

Carol leaned down further into him, pushing her tongue into his mouth with more force than she normally did. Normally he felt like she was trying to run away from him when he deepened a kiss, but right now it felt like she was trying to reach every single space in his mouth.

Daryl let his hand slide down so that it was resting against her leg and he reached up a little, searching out her ass with his fingertips and pulling her forward so he could bury his fingers in the soft flesh. He could feel himself becoming aroused and his heart was pounding. He cursed the fact that he felt exhausted and he knew there was really nothing that he could do about the feeling he was having.

Carol pulled away from him, panting a little.

"Gotta stop," Daryl said. "Can't do this."

Carol reached over and unbuttoned his pants, struggling to move them down enough. She freed him from his underwear.

"What are ya doin'?" Daryl growled, trying to keep control of himself. Carol raised herself up and slid her pants and underwear down. She smiled.

"Being creative," Carol said. She moved and took him into her mouth. For a moment he watched as she leaned over him, sucking him. He closed his eyes, his breath catching. He ached trying to breathe the way his body wanted him to, but at the moment it was worth it. Carol stopped a moment and opened his eyes. She smiled at him, shifting around on the mattress a little, still leaning over him. She pulled his hand and placed it between her legs. "Don't be greedy," she panted.

Daryl worked here with his thumb and let his fingers slip inside of her, but he lost himself when she took him back into her mouth. He finally gave in and let himself finish, apologetically, and before he came completely down from his high he turned his focus on her as she leaned against him, panting into his skin until she came, nipping at his stomach.

Daryl had to admit that he felt better…his chest ached, but he felt much more relaxed, and at the moment that more than made up for the ache.

"I'm glad ya back in the cell with me," he said, finally.

Carol chuckled, still not having moved from her position, leaned against him, her head resting lightly on his abdomen.

"Because I can do that?" She asked.

"No," Daryl said. "Just 'cause I missed havin' ya here."

Carol pulled herself up and came back to kiss him. For a moment he thought it was strange to think that he could taste himself on her tongue, but then he just settled into the feel of her there, her tongue exploring his mouth.

"That's a pretty good bonus, though," he said when they'd pulled away from one another.


	68. Chapter 68

**AN: So it's been a long week and I'm in slow motion today, but here's a little something to keep the story going.**

**As always, thank you all for your reviews, comments, PMs, etc. I thank you for all of them! **

**I hope you enjoy!**

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Carol could see that Daryl was healing, and it was a good thing too. She didn't think the prison could stand his surly mood about his injuries much longer. In general he stayed in a sour mood and it seemed like everything that everyone said or did could easily get misconstrued by him and he turned it into a reason to be pissed off. Him finally healing and feeling in control of his life again was something that they were all looking forward to. At least then, maybe, he'd stop biting everyone's head off at every turn.

He was starting to move around now, on his own, though he was much slower and stiffer than he'd been before. This was still much to his disliking and he didn't seem to understand why every tiny change was something that Carol and Alice both celebrated as major victories while he seemed to see them only as evidence that he wasn't entirely back to the man that he'd been before all of this.

Everyone else was healing too. There were almost full recoveries across the board, Daryl excluded since he had suffered the most serious wounds, and physically everyone was fine. Carol didn't pretend that psychologically they had all overcome the attack, but that would take more time than wounds that the eyes could see.

With Daryl on the mend, though, Carol was feeling particularly lighthearted around the prison. It was cold, and even though they didn't know exactly what month it was, winter had wrapped around them. At night, usually starting at dinner time, they ran the generators enough to provide electricity for some small heaters that they had found which sat in the common area of each of the two cell blocks that were occupied. They gave off very little heat if you weren't right on top of them, but it was enough that, coupled with blankets, you could keep from freezing to death.

Carol was glad of Daryl's body heat at night, and glad that she was producing more heat than she normally did, probably owing to the fact that, in a glance, it looked like she was a kid hiding a soccer ball under her clothes.

Alice estimated, and Carol thought she was about right, that they had twelve or thirteen weeks to go. Carol knew that was a while, but it already gave her a nervous, excited feeling in her stomach when she thought about it. They'd been through so much, and they'd all lost so much, that the thought that she was going to have a healthy baby in just such a short amount of time, seemed too good to be real at times and she wanted to rush forward in the days just to be sure that nothing leapt out of the shadows and ruined everything.

That wasn't how time worked, though, so she just had to be patient. She let her excitement for the baby keep her optimistic, despite the cold, and she let it push her into caring for Daryl with the most infinite patience she could muster. She wondered if he'd ever been injured before in such a way as to be put out of commission like he was. She doubted it, because most days she was only minutes away from telling him that a disgruntled three year old had a better attitude than he did. She probably would tell him that too, but she heard Alice giving it right back to him so often that she figured she'd let the two of them do the fighting. They seemed to enjoy it.

Carol drug one of the chairs from the dining room into the common room of the prison and backed it into a corner. She pulled herself up on, leaning against the wall, trying to work one of the hooks that she'd found into the grout between the cement blocks there. They were trying to do laundry, but the weather wasn't cooperating. It wasn't exactly easy to get your clothes to dry when they kept crusting over with ice before the water had a chance to evaporate out of them.

Her new plan, and one she hadn't told anyone about in case it went down in flames like she feared it might, was to take the hooks that she'd found in a box in the storage room and create a clothesline running diagonally across their common room. At least then the clothes might have some hope of drying.

So she'd disappeared from everyone else, leaving several of the other women outside, trying to wash clothes despite the cold conditions and hang them to dry on the line where they'd never get dry enough not to sour, and leaving most of the rest of the prison group doing everything they could to make sure the animals didn't freeze to death in their shelters by tacking plastic and any other covering they could find around most of the buildings.

She thought it would be easier to test out the hooks without so many skeptics around anyway since in the prison everyone felt the need to throw their two cents in about every single thing that you did.

"Ya probably shouldn't be doing that," she heard a voice behind her say. Carol startled at the noise, thinking she was alone, and nearly stepped off the edge of her chair. She might have fallen if it hadn't been for Wyatt's broad hand going immediately to her hip and heaving her back in the direction from which her foot had slipped.

Her balance regained, but her breath not, Carol turned around quickly to see Wyatt standing there, a bottle of water in his hand, staring at her.

"You nearly scared me to death!" Carol scolded.

She knew it really wasn't his fault. Anyone could walk in at any time, the prison was an area of pretty high traffic, but it still didn't mean that she hadn't been absorbed in her thoughts and closed off from the possibility that anyone was going to surprise her.

"Sorry," Wyatt said. "Didn't mean to scare ya at all, but don't ya think it might be a bad idea for ya to be crawlin' all over the furniture like ya thought ya was Spiderman?"

Carol chuckled at the boy, and despite Wyatt's overgrown physique, she clearly knew now that she considered him a boy. He may be a physical giant, but he was only barely twenty.

"I don't think I'm Spiderman," Carol said. "I was trying to get this hook in the wall. I want to hang one here and then put another over there to string up some of the cord for a clothesline."

"So why didn't ya just say something? Anyone else could have done it for ya and Pa don't see to think it's a good idea for ya to be doing nothing like climbing around and stuff. Says ya could shake that baby right on loose if ya don't use some sense," Wyatt said.

Carol smiled.

"And if the hooks won't go on?" Carol said. "Everyone will just give me a hard time for thinking they would. I don't feel like dealing with it. Besides, I wasn't going to fall if it weren't for people like you trying to sneak up on me."

"I'll put ya hook in," Wyatt said. He finished sucking down his bottle of water and then sat the empty water bottle on the ground to the side. He came back to where Carol was still standing on her chair and offered her a hand. "Crawl down off of there and tell me what ya want."

Carol accepted his hand and climbed down off the chair. Wyatt moved it out of the way and Carol directed him as to what she wanted him to do. The boy was probably almost seven feet tall, and he didn't need a chair at all to accomplish what she'd been attempting. He fiddled for a moment with the hook, but ground it into the grout, wedging it between the blocks, with considerably less trouble than Carol thought she would have had if she'd continued her efforts.

Wyatt smiled at her when the hook was in place. Carol sighed and shook her head a little.

"Over here," she said. "I need the other one."

Wyatt crossed the room to the wall that Carol signaled and she handed him a hook out of her pocket. He started to grind it into the grout.

"Up, Wyatt…three blocks down, not four," Carol said, glancing at the other hook they'd hung. Wyatt looked in that direction, moved the hook up and a few minutes later he'd ground it in so that it hung right where she'd wanted it. "You want to be a peach and hang the cord for me too?" Carol asked.

Wyatt shrugged.

"Sure, weren't doing nothing else," Wyatt said. Carol motioned him toward the storage area with her to get some of the cord that they kept coiled up.

"So tell me, Wyatt, which one of your parents did you get your stature from?" Carol asked as Wyatt picked up the coiled cord.

"Beg pardon, ma'am?" Wyatt asked, turning around and looking confused, the coil hanging from his hand.

Carol smiled.

"Well, Imogene, she's…well she's average size for her age, but you've got to know, Wyatt, that you're sort of a big guy," Carol said.

Wyatt smiled and nodded.

"Ya mean do I look like my Mama or do I look like my Daddy?" Wyatt asked.

Carol nodded.

"Imogene looks like our Mama," Wyatt said, starting back through the prison. "I used to like to pick her up because I kept growing but Mama didn't. I always thought it was funny that I could pick my Mama up and I used to tease her that it was my turn to hold her 'cause I can remember when I was little and she used to be trying to always pick us up and stuff. My Daddy, though, he was always way on bigger than any of us. I was catching up to him, but he was bigger than me."

Carol couldn't imagine Wyatt getting too much bigger, at least not height wise, but she could see that the boy might not have filled out yet to his full potential. That in itself could always make a man appear bigger.

"So you look like your Daddy?" Carol asked.

Wyatt nodded, dropping the coiled cord on the chair that Carol had been climbing on earlier.

"Yep, but I ain't always been big," Wyatt said.

Carol chuckled and shook her head.

"No, I didn't imagine you had. Your mother wouldn't have survived," Carol said.

Wyatt was tying a loop in the end of the cord. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Ma'am?" He asked.

Carol shook her head.

"I just mean that if you proportionate in size as a baby things might have been difficult for your mother. Don't worry about it," she said, dismissing the comment.

Carol stood back and watched happily as Wyatt looped the cord over one hook and crossed the room, measuring out the length he needed and cutting the cord with his knife before tying the second loop and slipping it over the second hook.

He beamed at the newly hung line with some pride in his accomplishment.

"All hung up for ya now!" He said. "Don't go hanging on no chairs no more, though. If Pa catches ya doing it he's liable to tear into ya and ya don't want to hear Pa go off. He can be right scary when he wants to be."

Carol chuckled.

"Thank you, Wyatt," She said. "And I won't let your grandfather catch me climbing on anything. I don't want to see what he's like when he's not in a good mood."

Wyatt nodded at her.

"Want me to put that cord back up for ya?" He asked, eyeing the coil on the ground near the second hook.

Carol shook her head.

"No, I've taken up enough of your time," she said. "You go and do whatever it was you were going to do when you found me. I'll put the cord up. If you could, though, when you step back out tell the lovely ladies doing the laundry that we have a new drying system. Do you think you could do that?"

Wyatt smiled and nodded.

"Right quick like," he said. "I don't know how long Ty meant for me to be on break, but I reckon I should get down there and check on them soon enough. They give me the job of hammering up the top parts of all our covers 'cause I'm the best at it."

Carol nodded her head a little, smiling.

"I bet you are pretty good at that," she said. She leaned in, wrapping the boy in a hug and he patted her back. She thought it was funny because Wyatt obviously liked hugs a lot, but he always blushed at her when she hugged him.

"Don't forget to tell the ladies on your way out," Carol said, pulling away and picking up the coil that needed to go back to storage.

"No ma'am," Wyatt said, walking away from her and heading back outside the prison.

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Daryl eased back out of the prison as quietly as he´d come in to go and walk the perimeter. That was really all he was allowed to do these days anyway, walk slowly or sit with the old men and he wasn´t sitting with the old men.

He was tired of hearing Alice telling him constantly not to do things because he might pull something, or break something, or twist something, or tear something. He was beginning to think that she was coming up with verbs to throw at him that didn't even exist.

He was irritated by the way that people were treating him. Like he was _delicate_. Daryl didn't like people thinking that he was delicate. Even if something was temporary, even if he was healing and Carol assured him every night that he was getting stronger and better and would be back to his old self soon enough, people never seemed to forget about when you weren't yourself. They changed how they looked at you and they changed how they treated you.

And Daryl had come in to catch that Wyatt guy hugging all over Carol. He'd heard at least a thousand times the story from Carol, while singing the praises of their three new arrivals, of how Wyatt saved her. How he plucked her right out the woods while she was running away from that crazy fucker. To Daryl it didn't sound like much of a saving. Sounded more like she ran into the asshole and he didn't have anything else to do so he took her home with him, same as anyone would have done if they'd come up on an exhausted woman in the woods. Wasn't really some great act of heroism.

But Carol praised the asshole. She was always praising him for every damn little thing he did around there and Daryl heard it, whether or not she meant for him to hear it. Every time she praised him and every time she told the story about how Wyatt had saved her and Wyatt had plucked her right out them woods, and Wyatt had brought her safely back to the prison, all Daryl could keep hearing in his head was what she wasn't saying, but what she really meant.

Wyatt had saved her when Daryl didn't come. Wyatt had been there in the woods after she'd realized that Daryl wasn't going to be in the woods, and Wyatt had brought her back to the prison where Daryl was just there, waiting and hoping she'd somehow make it back. That's what he kept hearing.

And so Daryl just had to deal with the fact that he could walk in on scenes like that when he had his hands all over her. What could he do about it anyway? Wyatt was big enough that even Tyreese was dwarfed by him, so it wasn't like Daryl could really pound the guy, especially not in his current condition. Right now Carol said he did so great because he could walk around and take a fucking piss by himself. He couldn't do a damn thing to the guy.

Carol seemed to like it anyway. She was encouraging the guy all the time, talking all nice to him and always smiling at him and touching him. She was egging him on. She didn't want Daryl to break it up even if he could…and he could still shoot the asshole with an arrow if he had to…because she liked it.

Daryl circled around the fences and glanced toward the area where they attempting to stop wind from getting into the cracks of the structures they'd built for the animals. Now the asshole was out there working with them. Daryl couldn't believe he'd torn himself away from Carol when Daryl wasn't even around.

Daryl growled to himself and started back toward the prison. He really hated to admit it, but this was getting the best of him. He wondered what else was going on…what he wasn't seeing since Wyatt came to the prison after _saving_ Carol. If he could walk in on him with his arms wrapped around, what hadn't he seen?

Daryl went through the yard as quickly as he could. He needed to cool off, but there wasn't any way to do it. He couldn't go outside the fences, and he could feel eyes burning into him even while he made rounds. He wasn't supposed to go up and down the ladder to take watch either. There wasn't any way for him to escape everyone else and think through any of this except for to hide in his cell like some sort of hermit.

Still, he couldn't stand to be out there with everyone else any longer, and he really didn't want to run into Carol until he'd cooled down. He was going to confront her about this bullshit with Wyatt. If she wanted out because she was more interested in someone who had plucked her ass out of the woods once than she was with Daryl, then fuck her, but one way or another he was getting answers. He wasn't going to let her or Wyatt either one think they were getting away with some shit behind his back.

He wasn't as delicate as everyone liked to think he was, and he was going to be over this shoot soon. He'd remind them, then, that he wasn't some kind of little girl that needed to be pampered. He was also going to remind Carol that he wasn't blind and he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to stand by while she was all tangled up with some asshole in the prison, acting like nobody could come by at any time and see that shit. Like they couldn't see how she was acting. He wouldn't have her thinking he wasn't smart enough to figure that out and he wouldn't have everyone else laughing about the fact that the two of them were playing him for a fool and figuring that he couldn't even see what was going on under his nose.

Daryl went into the cell and sat down on the bunk. He meant to stay in there until he'd calmed down and he'd wait until Carol came in with dinner before he told her that her behavior either had to stop or she had to make a decision. As much as he didn't like that it had come to this, he wasn't going to be made a fool of and just sit idly by while it happened.


	69. Chapter 69

**AN: OK, this one is a little shorter, but it's kind of intense and those tend to be shorter simply because I need a break during them. We've got a lot more to come and I'm going to try to get another one out to you soon.**

**As always, thank you for your reviews/PMs/comments. They're always welcome.**

**I hope you enjoy! **

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Carol glanced around and noticed quickly that Daryl wasn't anywhere in the group for dinner. She sighed a little to herself and made her way back to where Melodye and Karen were handing out plates to the people still waiting for food.

"Can I get two plates?" She asked Melodye.

Melodye nodded, smiling at her, a little concern wrinkling her forehead. Since Daryl had been able to get up and make it to meals on his own, he came to quite a few of them, but every now and again whatever dark and troubling mood had swallowed him up would rear its head and he'd skip meals. Either that, or he was just too tired and sore to make the move, but lately it had been more and more the first that was the real problem.

"You want me to talk to him?" Melodye asked.

Carol shook her head, forcing a smile. Melodye had tried time and time again to talk to Daryl, but he didn't want to talk to her. He wasn't really very responsive to what he called her therapist bullshit. Melodye could do a lot of good for the people who wanted to talk about what was troubling them, because they really wanted to escape it, but Daryl wasn't one of those people.

It was beginning to frustrate Carol a good deal. She loved him…she loved him more than she could even begin to express…and she really wanted to help him, but she was beginning to grow weary of thinking that he wasn't willing to help himself with whatever it was that was eating him. He just wanted to wallow in it when left alone and snort and scream at anyone who came near it. It was causing people to avoid him as much as possible, and it was taking a toll on her when she couldn't convince herself to excuse it and look in the opposite direction.

Melodye passed Carol the plates and Carol took them, two bottles of water tucked under her arms, and headed toward the cell, not sure what she was going to find when she got there.

Carol walked into the cell and slid the plates onto the little table by the bed, accidentally knocking a variety of things to the floor in the process. She sighed a little. Daryl was lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, his face screwed up in thought. Carol forced on a smile. She needed to be as pleasant as possible to try to bring him down out of whatever fit was gnawing at him.

"I brought dinner," she said. "We made stew with a few of those rabbits. Should be good."

In response her stomach growled. The truth was she'd been looking forward to the stew and now she wasn't even sure she wanted to eat it. The nervous feeling churning inside her made her sure it was going to be a battle between the part of her that really thought eating was going to be an amazing event at the moment and the part that knew she'd be fighting to keep the food down around the growing anxiety.

Daryl turned a little, looking at her blankly, and then he resumed staring at the ceiling. Carol turned around and went to sorting a few of the clothes that she'd piled into the chair near the cell door after they'd dried earlier. They smelled better, at least, than the clothes they'd been washing lately. Her idea for the indoor drying line was working out better than she'd even thought and the clothes were drying quicker and not having the time to sour that they'd had outside.

She turned around slightly, abandoning her work when she heard the cot squeak. Daryl sat on the edge of the bed, now chewing at his thumb, an obvious sign that something was wrong. She stopped what she was doing and turned back at him, intending to get the plate and hand it to him. Maybe a good meal would calm him down.

As she reached for the plate, Daryl's hand wrapped roughly around her wrist. She didn't move, she just looked at him. He was glaring at her now.

"What's wrong, Daryl?" Carol asked softly. She was beginning to feel these days like the only time that Daryl was really nice to her was when she had his dick in her mouth, or not long after. She was sure that his sour mood was changing her perception to make her see it that way, but regardless that was what she was left with. Tonight, though, she wasn't in the mood for that at all, and she really hoped that wasn't what this was going to come to as the only way to rile him for a bit.

Daryl tightened his grip on her wrist for a second and then leg to, still glaring at her.

"I reckon ya done with me?" Daryl asked.

Carol wrinkled her eyebrows in response to him.

"What?" She asked.

"I seen ya all over that Wyatt guy. Don't think I ain't seen it," Daryl said. "I reckon ya done with me."

Carol scrunched her face up in response to Daryl. The man could come out of left field with some things, that was for sure, and it was worse when he was in a sulky mood. It was like he decided that if he couldn't do anything else with his day he could at least sit around and come up with things to throw at people.

"Wyatt is a friend, Daryl. He's just a boy," Carol said.

Daryl raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah I seen ya, treatin' him like a boy," Daryl said.

Carol sighed again. She didn't know what Daryl had seen or what he thought he'd seen, but Wyatt was just that, a boy. Granted he was a large and overgrown boy, but he was just a boy.

"Daryl, I don't know what's going on with you right now, but Wyatt is just a boy. If you mean that I'm nice to him, yes I'm nice to him," Carol said.

"Well I don't like how _nice_ ya bein' ta him. I reckon everyone else has seen it too," Daryl said.

Carol could feel herself tensing up.

"What do you think you've seen, Daryl?" She asked. "What do you think anyone's seen?"

"I seen ya rubbin' all over him. Touchin' him all the damn time. Ya don't even do no good damn job a' hiding it. Always talkin' 'bout how great his stupid ass is," Daryl said. "Well if that's what the fuck ya want, then ya best take ya damn food an' go eat supper with him 'cause I ain't interested in that shit."

Carol felt herself flood with anger and all the emotions that she'd been holding back. Daryl's anger fueled hers at the moment because it was unfounded anger. It was anger directed at her that wasn't her cross to bear. She'd born enough of other people's misplaced frustration in her life and it was a game that she was tired of playing.

"Wyatt is a friend of mine, Daryl. He's a boy and he misses his parents. I hug him and I praise him, yes…as a boy who still needs that and doesn't have a lot of places to get it, not in this world," Carol said, realizing her teeth were clenched together in frustration. "He says I remind him of his mother, and I probably do. Imogene looks like their mother and I'm about the same size as Imogene…that's enough right there for someone who is still mourning. And I'm not going to stop being nice to someone who is nice to me just because it makes you uncomfortable and you're not man enough to deal with your emotions!"

Daryl got up from the bed then with more speed than she'd seen him move since she got back to the prison. He stood in front of her and she wondered for a moment if he was going to pull back and hit her. She prepared herself, just in case.

"Don't you say I ain't no man," Daryl growled, leaning closer to her. Carol narrowed her eyes.

"If you want to be seen as a man, act like one," she dared. Daryl clenched his jaw at her.

"Ya pissed off 'cause I ain't fuckin' saved ya an' that fuckin' Wyatt guy did, at least in your damn view of things. That's fine. He fuckin' pulled ya ass out the woods one fuckin' time. Well ya just go ahead then. I been there for ya ass plenty a' damn times. Ya wouldn't a' made it this fuckin' long without me!" Daryl snarled.

Carol tried to steady her breathing and let the anger be the only emotion she was channeling at the moment. She wasn't going to cry. Come hell or high water she wasn't going to back down from this and she wasn't going to cry. If Daryl wanted to be some kind of snarling ass, that was fine, but she wasn't going to let him reduce her to a puddle. She was beyond that.

"You're the one with a problem here, Daryl. I haven't once shoved anything in your face. You didn't come because you couldn't come and I haven't held that against you. Not one damn person in this prison has held that against you except yourself, and that's something you're going to have to deal with. I got out of that camp, but I didn't do it alone. Alice and Michonne did as much to save my ass at that camp as anyone. Wyatt got me out of the woods. But I handled all the rest, Daryl. I could have saved myself," Carol yelled at him. "And I think that's what's really pissing _you_ off, Daryl. I could have saved _myself_. I didn't need you to come and get me and it didn't matter to me that you didn't come. I was happy to get back here…to get back to _you_…but now you're making me sorry that I even came back!"

Daryl raised his lip at her.

"Ya sorry ya came back, huh?" He snarled.

Carol nodded.

"If you're going to be like this, I am," Carol said. "You're not the same as you were. You're too busy drowning yourself in some kind of pity party to get on with your life, and I don't want to see that, Daryl."

The truth was it hurt her to see him like this. Daryl wasn't one to feel sorry for himself very often, and he'd been doing enough of it since he'd been shot to draw everyone's attention to it.

"Ain't no damn pity party!" Daryl growled. "Ya messin' 'round with some damn kid right in front of my fuckin' face an' now ya gonna try ta come in here an' sling that psychology bullshit ya lil' friend is always barfin' all over every damn body at me?"

Carol closed her eyes a minute. He was hurting…whether it was from what he was expressing or not, he was hurting and that hurt her.

"What's it going to take, Daryl? What do you need to feel like the man you used to be before you started wallowing in this?" Carol asked, lowering her voice a little. "Do you need to hit something? Because you can hit me if that's going to make you feel better."

"Get the fuck out," Daryl said, his shoulders lowering a little.

Carol stepped forward a little, fighting back tears. She had a promise to herself that she wasn't going to cry, not here and not now.

"I mean it," she said. "Go ahead. Hit me. If that's what you need, then go ahead and do it, but when you're done, be over this so you can move on and we can get on with our lives."

Daryl worked his jaw a minute and Carol thought he might hit her. She closed her eyes, waiting on it. After a second, though it didn't come.

"I ain't fuckin' hittin' ya!" Daryl said. "Ya wanna _get on with ya life_ then do it. I ain't done nothin' ta you."

Carol knit her eyebrows together.

"Daryl, I'm not cheating on you with Wyatt," Carol said, most of the anger draining out of her now, but the stress moving in to take over. "I wouldn't cheat on you with him or with anybody. Not in front of your face, and not behind your back. I just want you to feel better…however it is that you need to do that."

Daryl sat down on the edge of the bed again, but Carol stayed where she was, almost a little afraid to move.

"You don't have to save me all the time, Daryl, and you don't have to save anyone. It's not your responsibility to carry the world on your shoulders. I think…maybe for right now…the only person you need to focus on saving is yourself," Carol said. "I want you back, but not like this. I want the Daryl you were and I'm not talking about physically. If Alice told me you'd never recover and you'd never be physically what you were…I wouldn't care. I didn't fall in love with you for what you could do."

Carol shrugged a little. Daryl wasn't looking at her anymore, he was staring at the wall. He was done with her, with the discussion. He was shutting down in true Daryl Dixon form and she didn't know what to do and wasn't sure that she had the ability to really do anything.

Carol turned and went through her drawer, pulling out some of her clothes.

"The fuck ya doin'?" Daryl asked, his voice still holding the gravelly sound of his anger and his breathing still coming out ragged.

"I'm going to D Block," Carol said. "It's obvious that there's nothing that I can do to help you with this until you decide to do something for yourself. You're trying to push everyone away, Daryl. You've snapped at everyone in the prison and you tear into me every chance you get. I want you to feel better and I want you to be back to normal, but I don't know how to make that happen and I just can't stay here and watch you wallowing around in your self-pity. When you decide that you want to move on from this, you're welcome to look for me then, if you want to."

"Fine," Daryl said sharply. "Go on, then. Get the fuck out. Go if ya goin'."

Carol nodded. She left everything but a few pieces of clothing. She could always come back for the rest if the move was something that was going to be permanent, but for now she was hoping that it wasn't going to be that way. She hoped that Daryl just needed to see that no one was going to indulge whatever self-pitying mood he was in.

She was sorry for what he had suffered throughout his entire life, but now wasn't the time to let it get the best of him and it wasn't the time to try to punish everyone around him for everything that he'd ever been through. Everyone in the prison had been through a lot, and everyone was dealing with it the best way they knew how. All Carol could think to do at the moment was give Daryl the space he needed, maybe, so that he could deal with it.

Carol left the cell, not saying anything. She quietly made her way toward D Block, pushing her anxiety down and biting back the tears. If she had some kind of magic wand she'd use it right now to erase everything. She'd make things peaceful and happy and then there wouldn't be any of these problems going on. Unfortunately, though, she wasn't magical in any way.

Carol got to the cell she'd been staying in before she put the beds together in the crowded cell she'd shared with Daryl. She put her clothes in the drawer and sat down on the bed, her breath catching in her chest, her heart aching.

That was when she finally let herself cry. The tension, the anger, the disappointment, and even the fear crept over her and she let it roll down her cheeks.

It wasn't easy to love someone at the end of the world, especially not if you'd chosen to love an emotionally damaged redneck. She knew that Daryl felt like the injury had made him less than in some way, and even though she didn't feel that way and she doubted sincerely that anyone else in the prison shared his sentiment, it wasn't going to change how he felt about himself. He had to realize that he was still the same person. He'd just simply been injured and that was that. Everyone had suffered injuries. You just waited for it to pass and you eventually pulled yourself back to your feet. Daryl just hadn't gotten back to his feet yet.

Carol felt the baby stirring and she rubbed her hand over the spot where a foot or an elbow or whatever it was pushed against her. She felt it rolling beneath her palm and tried to suck in a few breaths to calm down, sure she had disturbed it if the yelling hadn't been enough.

"You settle down, OK?" She said to the baby in her belly. "You just settle down. He's going to calm down eventually. I'm not going anywhere, though."

The baby didn't settle down, at least not much. Carol heard her stomach growl again and she realized she hadn't eaten. The fight had taken precedence over mealtime. She considered going to get something to eat, but she didn't want to walk back through C Block at this point. She didn't want to see anyone and find out if they'd overheard the fight and she didn't want to talk about any of it.

Alone in the cell she could hear the noises just outside of Ned, probably, turning on the electric heaters for the block. She could hear the sounds of voices and of springs squeaking. She sighed and lie down on her side in the bunk, tugging the blanket over her and shivering at the cold that the blanket was never going to keep off.

She tried to will herself to sleep, reaching up and squeezing at her own shoulders, but she couldn't calm down and the sobs that snuck out every now and again shook her body and didn't help with the situation.

She felt guilty. She felt like she hadn't done the right thing. She hadn't figured out how to fix things for Daryl and if she were a good wife, if she were what Daryl needed her to be, then she would have known how to help him with this problem. Instead she'd been selfish and walked away because it killed her to see him like this. She'd been selfish and chose to remove herself from the scenario instead of trying to stay and fix it all for him.

Carol closed her eyes, begging her body to sleep at least. She had very little hope that her mind would, but even if her brain kept fighting with her she hoped her fatigued muscles would give up and rest at some point.

Carol rubbed at her belly.

"Go to sleep," she whispered to the baby that wasn't entirely happy with its surroundings either. It kicked her in response. "OK," she whispered. "I deserve that. I can't fix it for your daddy and I can't fix it for you either, but I'm going to do my best. He's going to come around and I promise, I'm going to do whatever I can to make it better for you."

She tried calming down as much as she could. She knew she had to relax somehow, if for no other reason than her tension was making the baby uncomfortable, and it hadn't done a thing to deserve it. Finally, she talked herself into letting go a little and she felt the baby get still. She tried to think about everything she could and anything she could, just to stay away from the situation at hand. She'd worry about it in the morning. There wasn't anything to do about it now, and, finally, she managed to drift off into a fitful sleep.


	70. Chapter 70

**AN: So here's a little bit more for you. It's stormy here, so I might as well write, you know? Thank you for your comments. I'm glad to see you're still interested in what's going to happen. **

**Also, for anyone who hasn't seen it yet and doesn't read Sweet Junction where I announced it already, I do have another Caryl fic out called Broken Mirrors. It's AU and quite different than anything I've written so far. If you think you might be interested, check it out. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. More to come! **

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_She was running down a hall in some kind of labyrinth. Maybe it was a hospital or a hotel…the hall was lined with rooms. _

_Her heart was pounding in her ears and she could barely breathe. The catch in her side was killing her. She wanted to keep running, but she didn't know if she was running away or if she was running toward them now. She was too turned around and everything looked exactly the same in every direction. She didn't know where she was going or how long she could keep going. She just knew she had to keep trying to run. The baby needed her to keep running. If she got caught the baby would pay for it. _

_Like a Jack-in-the-box Ed kept popping up, though, sending her jerking as fast as she could against her labored breath and her nearly exploding heart. She'd start in the other direction, knowing that he'd pop up again unexpectedly._

_And Daryl was there, but he wasn't going to help her. He was chasing her. He was just as angry as Ed was and she had to keep them both behind her…even though she felt like she was running right into one or the other at every turn._

_She labored through the dark halls, panting…wanting to cry out from the fear and the exhaustion but not wanting them to hear her. She was already afraid they were tracking her simply by the pounding in her heart. She turned the corner again, choosing a new hall. She ran, though, right into Ed waiting on her. She screamed out and tried to turn back around, but his arms closed around her…_

Carol's eyes jerked open and the sound of her cry echoed off the cell walls. She wasn't sure how far it had travelled or how loud it had been. She scrambled about in the bed for a moment, coated with sweat, slowly realizing it had only been a nightmare.

Her heart was pounding and she could barely get enough air into her lungs not to feel like she was going to pass out. She tried to sit up a little, but her head swam, causing her to panic more. There was a clench in her side and she struggled to gulp in air against the wishes of her lungs.

She needed help and she needed it now, but she didn't trust herself to sit up, less likely to try to stumble back to C Block to get assistance.

"Help!" She finally cried out. Several people were in the block around her. They stayed there to keep from feeling like everyone was piled on top of each other in the other block. "Please!" She cried out as soon as she'd gasped in enough breath to do so. She writhed against the mattress of the cot, feeling like her heart was going to explode and she was going to die at any minute from suffocation. She couldn't have sobbed even if she'd wanted to and she could only hope that someone was sleeping lightly enough to hear her. She couldn't hear anything but her labored breathing and the pounding of her heart in her ears. "Help!" She cried out again, hoping that someone came.

Carol couldn't get it under control, no matter how hard she tried and she kept growing terrified of her own body, which just made the entire fit worse. She was going to die from suffocation or a heart attack right now…alone. She wasn't even going to be able to blame her death on anyone else. She'd come through a lot of shit in her life just to die from a heart attack in D Block over a nightmare.

"Uh huh…I was waiting on it," she heard Alice's voice say. She tried to move to look at her, hoping that Alice could stop it. Before she could say anything, Alice was rolling her. "Come on, get on your left side," Alice said.

Carol wanted to say something, but she couldn't even get out the words and she didn't know what words she wanted anyway.

"Jesus! Never a dull ass moment around here," Alice said. Carol felt a sharp pinch on her thigh and knew that Alice was giving her something. Maybe it would stop some of this. Alice rubbed her back. "How about you try to breathe for me? OK? In through nose, out through mouth."

Carol tried to breathe the way that Alice instructed her and slowly she started to relax a little, her breathing slowing. It was replaced by a sobbing that she couldn't control.

"Calm down, you're just fine," Alice said, still rubbing her back. "You just had a pretty sweet ass panic attack. That shit happens. I've gotten them too. You're not dying, there's no heart attack, and the baby is just fine too. So just breathe for me and try to stop crying if you can."

Carol felt the fog lifting some and breathing was coming easier. She felt the bed shift and Alice got up.

"Hey, BFG, time to wakey the fuck up, I need you," she heard Alice saying somewhere in the cell block. She felt her eyelids growling heavy and she was almost falling asleep again. Carol heard Alice come back into the cell. "Just upsa daisy her and take her to my cell. Put her in the bottom bunk."

Carol felt herself being rolled and lifted, but she didn't have the presence of mine or the ability to care by whom or even really where she was going. She just wanted to rest and she felt suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion. She fell asleep before she ever finished what felt like a journey by sea.

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When Carol's eyes flickered open, she was warm and comfortable. She didn't really want to wake up, so she closed her eyes again and snuggled down deeper into the hole in which she was sleeping.

"She's coming around," she heard Melodye's voice say.

A cold hand touched her face a minute later and she opened her eyes. Alice was smiling at her.

"Hi there," Alice said. "You're just in time for some delicious lunch that Mel's going to get you. Think you might want to sit up and eat that for me?"

Carol's stomach growling answered for her. Alice helped here sit up and her head swam a little.

"What happened?" Carol asked.

"I'm not one hundred percent sure what triggered it," Alice said, "but you had a hell of a panic attack. I gave you something to take the edge off and then you were out like a wet firecracker."

It all flooded back to Carol almost suddenly.

"It was a nightmare," she said.

"I bet it was," Alice said. "But you're all calm now and nightmares can't really hurt us. You'll eat and maybe have a little round two to your nap. Seems like you could use it."

Carol rubbed her belly. The baby was still.

"Everything's fine there too," Alice said. "No worries. The bean is just napping and probably will be for just a little while longer."

Carol sighed and nodded her head. When Melodye came into the cell a few minutes later, she passed a plate to Carol and passed one Alice.

"I'm going to check on everyone," Melodye said. "You two enjoy." She started like she might leave the cell. "Al, are you going to take care of the thing?"

Alice shook her head.

"I'm not talking care of the thing, Mel, just like I told you. If you want to take care of the thing, then you should do that, but I'm not," Alice responded. "Things would not go well with the thing right now if I were to take care of it."

"That's why I think you need to take care of it," Melodye responded.

Carol ate some of the food that was in her plate, watching the other two women. It was leftover stew and rice from the night before, but it was almost gourmet to Carol at the moment.

"Is the thing Daryl?" Carol asked softly.

Alice turned and rolled her eyes.

"Leave him alone," Carol said. "There's nothing that anyone is going to be able to do until he decides to get over whatever thorn he's got in his side. He's trying to say he thinks I was cheating on him with Watt."

"Wait," Alice interrupted, "he thinks you're cheating on him with Wyatt?" She asked. Carol nodded, eating more of the stew.

"Damn!" Alice said. "I'm glad he didn't figure out about our affair, though."

Carol smiled at her.

"You can have her," Melodye, said. "I'm going to finish up lunch. I'll be back," she said, slipping out the cell.

Carol giggled again at Melodye's passive comment.

"If I were going to cheat," Carol said. "I'd do it with you." She said, smiling at Alice who was eating her stew now. Alice nodded at her.

"Well, I can promise you," she said, pausing a moment to finish swallowing, "that if something happened to Mel, and something happened to Daryl…and to the samurai…then I'd marry you immediately."

Carol snickered.

"I'm farther down the list than Michonne?" She asked.

Alice shrugged.

"I'm pretty sure I pissed on her when we spent the night in that shed. I'm not sure, but I think that means that I've got to mate with her for life or something if given the chance," Alice said.

Carol laughed.

"Well of course, I understand that," Carol said. "I don't want to be unreasonable about it."

Alice nodded and they both finished most of the food in silence. Alice reached over, before Carol finished, and scraped the rest of her food into Carol's bowl.

"I'm full, eat up," Alice said. She got up and slid her bowl onto the dresser in the room.

"I can't stay in your cell," Carol said. "It's sweet of you two to bring me in here, but I can't stay."

"You'll stay a couple of days," Alice said. "Then if you feel like moving you're welcome to go where you please. I want you to stay in here for a couple of nights though in case you decide to have some nightmares like that again, OK? I'd rather catch them before they get out of control instead of having to try and knock you out once it's ridiculous."

Carol nodded at her.

"Do you think that Daryl is going to get over this?" Carol asked. She finished her food and Alice took her plate, piling it up with hers.

"Hard to say," Alice said. "I've tried talking to him and Mel's tried talking to him. I know you've tried. Either someone else is going to have to come up with something magical to say to him or he's just going to have to work through this mess on his own. He's all grown up and he's going to have to be a big boy and realize that things aren't always going to be how the fuck he wants them to be, you know? Just not how the fuck that shit works."

Carol thought Alice looked pretty tired and she wondered if she'd slept much.

"Come sit down?" Carol asked her. Alice smiled at her and came, sitting beside her on the bed. After a moment Alice scooted down next to Carol, lying down flat beside her while Carol leaned up some. "I'm really not cheating on him," Carol said.

Alice chuckled.

"I know that, and he knows it too," Alice said. "He's just being an asshole." She yawned.

"I'm jealous of you and Mel sometimes," Carol said. "You've got it easy. You always get along, you never have any trouble, and you've been together…what…didn't you say sixteen years?"

"Yeah," Alice said, yawning again. "But don't be too fucking excited about it. Shit ain't always what the hell it looks like. Want me to tell you a story about why I think Daryl's going to figure his shit out?"

Carol slid down then, lying next to Alice.

"Yeah," she said. "Tell me a story," she said, giggling.

"Once upon a fucking time," Alice said. She paused for a moment while Carol snorted.

"I like this story already," Carol said.

"Shh…you're ruining the vibe," Alice said. "So once upon a fucking time, I was a big dumb asshole."

"Is that the story?" Carol asked.

"Not all of it, but it damn sure could be," Alice responded. "So any damn way…I told you I was with Mel for sixteen years, but really that's a big fucking lie. We've been together for fourteen years actually. Mel's nice enough, though, that after enough graveling and betting and learning how to pay for my shitty actions, she doesn't count those two years against us."

"What happened?" Carol asked. She really couldn't imagine Alice and Melodye not being together, and she didn't really know that she could imagine Alice ever being an asshole, not for real.

"So we were in college, right? And I was just losing my shit all over the fucking place because my parents were some pretty awesome douchebags. And they were giving me all this shit about 'Alice don't decide you're gay this' and 'you're going to ruin your life that' and all this classic bullshit…and I guess they got in there and chewed some kinda damn hole in my brain because I kept just getting pissed off at myself and at everybody else in the world that I was pretty damn sure I was a lesbian, but it was scaring the living fuck out of me," Alice said. "So anyway…there I was flipping the hell out because I was a lesbian but didn't want to be one…it was going to ruin my life after all…and Melodye starts making friends with this little stuck up bitch who was her roommate. Girl had a girlfriend and all this shit, but Mel was just stuck up her ass, or that's how if seemed to me. So I decide one night, just out of the fucking blue, that Mel wasn't interested in me and I wasn't a lesbian and I was fucking done with that shit so I was going to get rid of her and let her have a wonderful life with this new little stuck up bitch and I was getting on with my fucking life where she couldn't hurt me anymore…because after all I was sure she was cheating on me with this chick and that was fucking me up...even though I was just as fucking straight as everyone else in the world."

"So what happened?" Carol asked She rolled to the side and Alice shifted, giving her a little more room on the mattress.

"I called her up. Basically told her to get the fuck out of my life. Enjoy her fucking life with this chick. I don't remember the bitch's name either. I just cut all the ties. Slammed the phone down, wouldn't answer the phone, wouldn't return messages. Nothing. She wanted to have this bitch, that was OK with me, because damn it, I was out of there. Good fucking riddance," Alice said.

"How did you get back together?" Carol asked.

Alice chuckled.

"Well this shit went on for about two years. I was done with her ass. I told everyone I saw that I was done with Melodye. I was as straight…and consequently single…as I could be and I didn't give a damn what she was doing. I could do so much better it was fucking ridiculous," Alice said. "But that's only what I told everyone. In reality I was absolutely miserable. Every single fucking thing made me think of her and how damn much I wanted to just talk to her. Finally…after about two years…I got drunk and I ended up talking to her on accident."

"Alcohol will do that for you," Carol said.

Alice chuckled.

"Yeah it will! You want someone to tell the truth you get their ass plowed. They'll tell you everything you wanted know and then pass the fuck out," Alice responded. "So any damn way I started talking to her and the more we talked the more I realized how damn much I missed her. I asked her what it was that had kept us apart for two damn years, because of course, I couldn't even remember what the hell had been so damn important. She told me that I was a fucking asshole and she told me why the hell we hadn't talked in two damn years."

Carol smiled and snuggled into the pillow a little.

"And then she forgave you?" Carol asked, the smile still on her face.

Alice chuckled.

"And then she forgave me. After, of course, I apologized profusely, admitted to being the asshole of the century, and basically agreed to spend at least the next twenty five years doing everything in my life never to be the major asshole that I once was," Alice said. "I haven't been completely successful, but she forgives me most of the time."

"And now you're totally fine?" Carol asked.

"Do you want me to say we're perfect?" Alice asked. "Because that would be a ball faced lie. We have as many fucking problems as anyone else when it comes to the little shit. I'd say it's been probably four or five years though since we had some kind of big fight. I guess being apart that damn long just taught us that we loved each other and wanted to be together, and none of that little shit was really worth it if in the end it was going to break our asses up and make us miserable. You can work a whole lot of shit out with someone when you've realized that the thing you want above all else is just have to have that person in your life, whether they're an asshole or not."

"Well," Carol said, "I hope it doesn't take Daryl two years to figure it out. I kind of had this crazy hope that he might be there when the baby's born."

Alice chuckled a little.

"He's a pretty smart guy. He'll probably get his shit together a hell of a lot faster than I did," Alice said. "Besides, babies have a way of accelerating the getting the head out of the ass thing. Mel and I didn't have a kid. I'm sure he'll come around soon. Just do me a favor…"

"What's that?" Carol asked.

"Don't mention that story to Mel, OK? Kind of renews her pissed off feelings any time she hears it and I'd rather not have to start wooing the samurai any earlier than is absolutely necessary," Alice responded.

Carol chuckled.

"I won't say anything," she said. "I guess women can be difficult too."

"Boy howdy can they ever!" Alice said. "Take a nap…I know you're still groggy and I could use at least ten minutes. Let someone else worry about both of them for a while."

"Doesn't sound like a bad idea," Carol said with a yawn. She closed her eyes, shifting a little to get comfortable, the drowsy feeling of a full stomach and the warmth of the bed taking over. She didn't know what it was going to take to bring Daryl around, but she hoped that something was going to happen and it was going to happen fast. The baby would be hear in a few months, not a few years. This might be something he had to figure out on his own, and she was willing to accept that, but she hoped it was something he could maybe work on double time.


	71. Chapter 71

**AN: I hope you're all enjoying your weekend! **

**Here's a little something for you! Let me know what you think!**

**I hope you enjoy!**

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Daryl thought that he'd landed himself into a right nice pile of shit. That was the only way that he could explain it. Carol was sleeping in Alice and Melodye's cell and she was avoiding him like he had the plague instead of like he had been gunshot.

Now that he'd had a few days to cool down after the fight and start to consider things, he was realizing that she might be right on a few counts.

He was angry that he hadn't been there to save her and he was angry to think that it could happen again at any time. He wasn't exactly used to thinking of himself as someone who could be mowed down in the heat of things and left needing help instead of giving it. It wasn't a role that he was comfortable with. He wanted to protect her and to make sure she didn't fall into any of the situations again that she'd already been in, or any others for that matter.

It was more and more obvious with every added pound that his baby was alive and well inside of her, and it was growing. He didn't know, exactly, how long it would take for the thing to get here, but it would be here eventually, and then it would be just as easy to snatch right out of his hands as she was. He might not be able to protect it either. If he got shot again, just like he had this last time, he wouldn't even be able to save his kid.

And Daryl knew Carol's nightmares were back too. Everyone in the prison knew they were back. In the few nights that she'd been staying in Alice's cell the noise had become something they were accustomed to. Carol would start crying out, and then there was the clattering noise ringing through the block that was the sound of someone all but pole vaulting off the top bunk, and not long after that the screams would die down and fade into muffled sobs. Daryl wasn't sleeping well anyway, but once those sounds started he really couldn't sleep. All he could do was lie there in bed feeling like a jack ass because he wasn't the one telling her to wake up, telling her it was a dream, and trying to convince her that her reality was far less terrifying than whatever was lurking in her mind.

During the day she seemed cheerful, though, even though he only got to see her from a distance. She would always conveniently disappear any time he was attempting to get near her. He could tell, too, that everyone in the prison seemed to blame him. No one had said anything directly, but the looks he got from many of them weren't exactly looks that tried to hide anything.

Daryl wasn't sure what to do, though. He wanted to go groveling back…he wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell her that he knew she wasn't cheating on him with the big guy, but that it killed him to see anyone else wrapping their arms around her and knowing that they were actually much better for her than he was. Kid or not, the Wyatt guy was much more able to protect her right now than he was. Whether or not she was trying to rub that in his face, he just didn't want to see it there staring at him.

Daryl hung around outside the wall of the prison and watched as some of the others carried buckets of water down to the animal shelters that he had built. In the distance, and this was about as close as he was allowed to get, he could see Carol walking along the fences and talking with Michonne. Michonne carried her katana and Carol had a knife that she passed back and forth between her hands as she strolled along. They stopped, from time to time, stabbing at Walkers before they went back to whatever they were talking about.

He felt much better, and he was starting to really notice an improvement in his speed and his agility, but it wasn't enough to get him down there so that he could talk to Carol before she darted off in another direction. He noticed she was slowing down some, but she was still moving a hell of a lot faster than he was. It didn't help, either, that she was with Michonne and the woman had taken to protecting Carol from him like some kind of mother to her cub. He got close and he could see Michonne start to move in his direction. He really wasn't sure he wanted, at least in his current state, to end up having to fight with her.

He would have hoped that Alice would come to his rescue, telling him what he could do to solve his problems, but she was also acting like she might kill him. She didn't even check on him anymore and sent Hershel to have a look at his injuries instead of coming herself.

Everyone blamed Daryl for what was going on, but most of all Daryl blamed himself.

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In the evening, most everyone was gathered in the common room lounging on the unused mattresses they'd brought in as couches. Above their heads hung the laundry from the day that wasn't completely dry and in the center of the room sat the electrical heaters that warmed the block.

Daryl shuffled out of his cell and sat on one of the chairs that was slid against a wall for those of them who couldn't get up and down easily on their own and who didn't have the benefit of Wyatt pulling them up and down like Carol usually did.

This was the only time she let him anywhere near her and he was sure it was mostly owing to the fact that space was limited more than anything. He sat in the chair rolling cigarettes and glancing around, not paying close attention to any of the boring conversations that were taking place. Mostly, as he rolled the cigarettes, he kept his head down like he needed to study them to do the action. In reality, though he could roll cigarettes with his eyes closed and he wasn't really looking at them at all. He was keeping his eyes trained on Carol, trying to figure out what to do about the shit that he'd thrown into the fan once again.

Carol wasn't paying him any attention, though. She was lying on her back with her head in Melodye's lap and Maggie and Alice were sitting around her legs. Daryl wasn't sure what was going on, but they had her shirt up and he could see that every few seconds Alice or Maggie one was poking at Carol's belly and then they'd both laugh.

"What are ya doin'?" He finally called at them, curiosity getting the better of him. Everyone in the room looked at him, almost at exactly the same time, but he tried to ignore the stares. He also tried to ignore the daggers that the mattress full of women were shooting at him. He noticed, though, that Carol didn't even look in his direction. She tugged her shirt down, ending whatever it was they were doing.

Daryl was sorry now that he'd asked. The women were going to be pissy that he'd dared to even speak, and now he'd ruined whatever entertainment they had going.

Maggie glanced back at Carol a moment and noticed that she'd tugged her shirt down.

"We _were_ playing tag," Maggie said, her voice sounding quite annoyed. "You can poke at the baby in places and sometimes it pokes back. Now I guess we're just waiting until it's time to go freeze our asses of in our cells for the night."

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to his cigarettes. He was going to get blamed for every damn thing from here out, that much was evident. He knew he probably deserved it, though, so there wasn't much he could say about it. He finally selected one of the cigarettes that he had rolled and lit it, leaning back against the wall.

"I'm ready to go to bed," Maggie said, getting up. She said goodnight to a few people and Daryl noticed that Glenn hit his feet quickly. He always trailed immediately after Maggie. Maybe he'd taken enough lessons from Daryl that he wasn't taking any chances fucking up his relationship. Daryl knew that Maggie had gone through a lot since they lost Beth, and Glenn had responded to it by sticking to her like glue. Daryl realized he hadn't even asked Carol how she felt about the whole thing. He shook his head at himself.

"I'm kind of tired too," Carol said. Melodye helped push her up and Alice hit her feet, tugging Carol up from her position on the mattress. All three of them started toward the stairs and as they passed by Daryl leaned a hand out meaning to catch Carol's hand, but she snatched it as soon as his fingertips touched her.

"Goodnight," he said softly. She didn't respond and neither did the two women walking behind her. Daryl watched as they all mounted the steps and made their way into the cell.

Daryl sighed and looked around at the others who were sitting down there. One by one it seemed that they got up and disappeared. Those that didn't know him well and weren't particularly invested in the situation left without sneering at him, but several of the others either shot him an evil look or, in the case of Hershel, looked disappointed and shook their heads as they left the room.

Finally Daryl was left alone in his chair, everyone else having disappeared, except for Rick who sat on a mattress on the far end of the common room, leaned against the wall.

"Ya goin' ta bed too?" Daryl asked.

Rick pulled himself up and crossed in the direction of Daryl. He pulled the chair that Hershel had been sitting in over near him. For a moment he just looked at Daryl, and then he rested his elbows on his knees and leaned in.

"What are you doing, Daryl?" Rick asked, keeping his voice down. Daryl knew he was trying not to let his voice echo through the block. It was the closest thing a private conversation that anyone could hope to have in the prison.

Daryl shook his head and lit another of the cigarettes he had lined up in his lap.

"I'm busy, Rick. Takes a helluva lotta work ta fuck things up Dixon style," Daryl said, trying to keep his voice low as well. Rick shook his head.

"Look, Daryl, I don't know what's going on here, but if you don't want to be done with Carol then I think you might look into fixing it," Rick said.

Daryl snickered.

"Well ain't you a peach?" He said back. "I'm glad ya thought a' that, Rick, 'cause it hadn't occurred ta me that I might wanta fix this shit."

Rick looked at him.

"I'm just saying that I messed a lot of things up with Lori, Daryl, and it's too late for me to fix those. You've got time to fix things with Carol, though, and you never know when that time could run out," Rick said. "I know we always like to think there's going to be more time, but sometimes it just runs out."

Daryl nodded his head a little.

"I don't know how ta fix it, Rick. An' I'm startin' ta think it don't matter no way. I try ta fix this shit an' as soon as I finish fixin' somethin' I go an' fuck up somethin' else. I weren't built for this," Daryl said. "I ain't good at this shit like Glenn is or even like you were. Weren't your fault that shit happened with Lori like it did."

"We could sit here all night and talk about why things happened with Lori like they did or what could have been done differently," Rick said. "Wouldn't do any good. You can fix things with Carol, though. What the hell even happened there?"

Daryl chewed at his cuticle now. How was he supposed to tell Rick what happened there?

"I can't take care of her," Daryl said. He shrugged a little. "I can't take care a' Carol an' I can't take care a' that kid, Rick."

Rick looked at him for a moment, quiet. He pinched at the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I understand what you're saying, Daryl. It's a lot of pressure…and you can only do what you can do, but do you really think this is the answer? Just walking out on both of them?" Rick asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Ain't walkin' out on nobody," Daryl said. "I just can't take care of 'em."

"Listen, Daryl," Rick said. "Believe me that I know what you're going through. It kills me that I couldn't keep what happened to Lori…" he paused for a moment. "I couldn't stop it, Daryl. There wasn't anything that I could do. I don't know that Carl and Judith are going to make it out of this…we don't know anything. As much as I want to think they're going to kick this whole thing…that they're going to come out on the other side of whatever the hell this all is…we know what happened to Sophia and we know things can happen. We can all only do the best we can."

"I'm doin' 'bout all I can do," Daryl said. "I couldn't save Sophia neither."

"None of us could, Daryl," Rick said. "That's not just on you. I left Sophia in the woods and I'm just as much to blame as anyone."

Daryl shrugged a little.

"I couldn't even go after Carol when that crazy man come an' took her," Daryl said. He shook his head. "Asshole come an' took Carol…took the baby…an' my ass never left this damn prison."

Rick nodded his head a little.

"That's why we all stick together, Daryl. Alone anything can happen to us. Together we got other people that have our backs. That's why we need the group. None of us can do this alone. We've learned that. Backing out on Carol now, though…staying out of your kid's life…it isn't going to make it easier, Daryl, if something does happen," Rick said. "Trust me, you think it's going to make it easier, but it isn't."

Daryl nodded and got up from where he was sitting. He clapped Rick lightly on the shoulder as he walked by him, heading toward his cell. He didn't know what to say to get the man to understand that he regretted this whole damn thing but he wasn't made for any of this either.

He didn't want anything to happen to Carol and he didn't want anything to happen to the baby, but he knew now that he wasn't going to be able to stop it if it was going to happen. Someone else might be there to save them, but he could fail at those kinds of things right easily.

He made his way into the cell and stripped down, crawling underneath the covers. He didn't hear Rick when he went to bed, he just tried to slip into sleep and hoped his own dreams weren't filled with Merle's asshole words like they had been for the past few nights.

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"_Ya stay with me, brothah…I'm the only one that's ever give a damn about'cha. That woman, she ain't'cha ole woman…not even close. Don't give two fucks about'cha brothah," Merle said, walking just ahead of Daryl on the path._

_Daryl was surprised that he was keeping up with him as well as he was. He was almost matching him step for step. They drug their feet along the overgrown path and Daryl darted his eyes from side to side sure that they might come up on something…a snake or something…in the bushes._

_It was warmer than it should be. It was almost hot and Daryl thought it should be colder than that. It was winter time and it wasn't supposed to be this damn hot. He was feeling better though, and that was good. It was better than he'd felt in a while. He almost didn't feel any pain where the bullet had torn through him and tried to kill him…tried to make him go on._

_But Merle had come back and he wasn't sure how the hell Merle had lived when he knew he'd put him down himself as a Walker. He'd killed him the second time, put him down…but Merle wasn't dead. He was walking a few feet in front of him with that shit eating grin plastered across his face._

_And suddenly Daryl remembered what the hell they were doing out there in the woods. They were looking for Carol. She was lost out there and he was trying to find her. That's why he was looking around. He was watching for snakes, and watching for Walkers, and looking for Carol. _

_Except Merle didn't think he should be looking for her. Merle thought he should go on with him. Family…blood family…real family…that's all that mattered in the world. Stick with your family and fuck the rest because the rest will fuck you. Merle kept saying it, over and over. Reminding Daryl that Carol wasn't his family. Merle said she wasn't even really his wife. She didn't give a damn about him. She was waiting out there, lost, but she didn't give a damn about him. All she wanted him to do was save her. Then she'd be gone. _

_When Daryl heard her cry out he looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. _

"_We're close!" He yelled to Merle, trying to scramble in the direction of the cries._

"_Ya forget about that ole woman now," Merle said. "Ya stick with me. Merle ain't never leave ya." _

_Merle continued on the path but Daryl tried to find Carol. He couldn't find her, though. The cries came from one direction and then the next. He lost Merle in the woods somewhere. It all started changing. He couldn't find her and suddenly he was lost himself. He kept trying to listen to screams…trying to get to them…but everything around him kept changing and even Merle was gone. _

"Jesus!" Daryl gasped, sitting up from his nightmare. His heart was pounding and his breath was uneven. He took a moment, settling down and fumbled in the darkness to light his lamp. From upstairs he could hear the familiar sobbing and realized that Carol's nightmare must have worked its way into his, tangling them together.

When the lamp illuminated the darkened cell, Daryl got himself out of the bed and took the lamp, ignoring cold and ignoring the fact that he was wearing nothing but his boxers. He didn't want to keep doing this. He couldn't fix this, not really. It wasn't going to change a single damn thing and he knew that he couldn't offer her anything…nothing that she really needed, but he couldn't take the screaming and the sobbing. It was tearing through him and hurting worse than the bullet ever had.

Daryl climbed the stairs to the second level, the grating on the stops almost icy feeling on his feet. He left the lamp at the bottom so the faint glow illuminated his way slightly but he could hold the rails on his way up, on both sides, assuring that a faulty step didn't send him toppling down. If he broke his neck he doubted Alice would go to any great lengths to save him at this point and he couldn't very well blame her.

Daryl padded as quietly as possible until he reached the cell, though he was sure that everyone else was awake anyway. He pushed back the sheet, sticking his head in the cell door. Carol was lying on her side, balled up and sobbing, facing toward the wall and away from him with Melodye leaning over her, talking quietly to her. A lamp illuminate the space. He was paying so much attention to what was happening that he didn't notice Alice until he heard the clanging noise of someone vaulting off the top bunk and she landed almost directly in front of him, catching him completely off guard and shoving him double handed out the door.

"Get the fuck out of here!" She hissed in a whisper once they were out into walkway again. Daryl was recovering from the shove. The fact that he hadn't lost his footing, he thought, was a testament to how much of his strength he was gaining back. She hadn't held back on her attempt to launch him out of the cell and very probably over the side of the walkway.

Daryl held his hands up to her, trying to block her but also trying to still her as she stalked toward him, her stance one of attack more than anything.

"I just wanta talk ta her," Daryl said. "I wanta help her."

"Oh you've helped enough, I think," Alice hissed. "You want to know the truth, lover boy? You're part of the fucking nightmares."

Daryl thought the nightmares might be Ed. They might be the day that they found Sophia in the barn. They might be nightmares about the Governor. All of those things still haunted her at night sometimes. He even thought they might be something from the last attack. But something stabbed inside of him to think that he was part of them.

"You're fuckin' crazy," he said. "I ain't done nothin' ta her."

"I'm telling you, asshole, you're part of the fucking nightmares. So get the fuck out of here. You thought it was pretty fucking terrifying for her to see my face in real life after her nightmares from Govy boy, how do you think she's going to feel when she sees yours? At least in her fucking nightmares I was trying to help some. You're the fucker that's after her ass," Alice said, backing Daryl down the walkway an inch at the time.

"I know what I did was fucked up," Daryl said. "Just like everythin' else. I just keep fuckin' up, but I wanta see her an' I wanta talk ta her an' she's ignorin' me. She damn near runs in the other direction when I come around."

"Maybe she's trying to find out if a little time will help you quit being such a giant fuck up!" Alice offered. "Jesus, Daryl! Everybody fucks up but you don't have to treat it like a fucking Olympic event! I'm serious, you're sure as shit not getting in there tonight. One or both of us will go over the side of this fucking promenade before you do, and right now I'm thinking it isn't going to be me."

Daryl held his hands up again.

"When tha fuck can I talk ta her? Y'all are fuckin' blockin' me every damn direction. I gotta run ta keep up with her ass an' then when I get here there's some damn body standin' around waitin' ta kick my ass if I so much as look at her. When the fuck am I s'posed ta try ta fix this shit?" Daryl hissed back at Alice.

Alice stood there a minute, her hands on her hips, blocking the walkway as though she thought he might make a run for it. Finally she reached out and before he knew what she was doing she buried her fingers in his hair, snatching him toward her and he instinctively wrapped his hand around her wrist, not sure if they were really about to fight in the dark while everyone around them tried to sleep.

"If you want to fucking talk, then you have your shit straight and you know what the fuck you want out of this because I swear to you that if you keep fucking up like this I'm going to cut your fucking dick off since you don't know what the hell to do with it," Alice hissed, leaning close to his ear. "If you think you've got your shit together, and that's a chance you're willing to take, then you let me know tomorrow and I'll figure out a fucking way to get you in to talk to her. If you're not sure, though, that you're ready to risk your little fucking friend, then you stay the hell away until you think you can hold your shit together."

She let go of his hair roughly and stood there. He was pretty sure if it had been bright enough in the prison to see such things he would seen smoke trailing out of her ears and nostrils.

He nodded.

"I'm sure," he said. "I'll talk ta her tomorrow."

Daryl felt his heart aching at the thought that he'd come up there, ready now to try to fix things, hoping that he could stop the sobbing and the screaming, but now he knew he couldn't. Even more than that, he thought his heart was breaking at the thought that it was his face…his face…that was in her mind right now and making her scream like that. Now he knew why he couldn't find her in his own nightmare. She wasn't lost and waiting for him. She was running from him. He'd fucked up this time…yet again…but he feared that it might have been his biggest fuck up of all. Every camel had the straw, and he worried that he'd finally added it to Carol's load.

Daryl turned, without another word, and slipped back down the stairs and to his cell, gathering up his lamp along the way. He blew the lamp out inside the cell and got back under the blankets, hoping there'd be no more nightmares tonight for either of them, and hoping that he figured out how to make sure that if Carol's nightmares did come back, he wasn't the one that she was running from.


	72. Chapter 72

**AN: Well, I wasn't sure what to update, but this one came one special request so here it is! **

**Let me know what you think!**

**Hope you enjoy! **

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Daryl nervously paced around the walkways outside of the shower room. He heard Alice, speaking loudly, as she walked along Carol and backed up, ducking out of the way. Once he heard the well-known squeak and thud of the door closing, he waited a bit, hoping that when he finally got in there he could find the right words to make this work the way he wanted it to.

Finally Daryl stepped forward and checked around to make sure that no one was coming down. No one was coming, just like Alice had told Daryl. He didn't know how she'd convinced everyone to let Carol have private shower time, but it had worked.

He pushed the shower room door open as quietly as possible and slipped in easing the door closed behind him. Alice was sitting on the bench with her feet up beside her and the water was running in one of the stalls with a curtain pulled tight around it.

"You should see him," Carol called over the running water. "All bunched up."

"Left or right?" Alice called back. She looked at Daryl and put her fingers to her lips. He stood there, waiting.

"Left," Carol said.

Alice smiled but Daryl had no idea what was going on.

"He'll stay put for a while then, he likes it over there," Alice said. "Uh, Carol, don't be alarmed, OK, but we've got a visitor."

"Who is it?" Carol asked.

"It's Daryl," Alice called back. "I'm not going anywhere, though."

Daryl wondered if he should take off his clothes, but he felt like Carol might not appreciate it if he came into her shower without his clothes on. At this point she wasn't going to appreciate the interruption at all, though she didn't respond to Alice.

Daryl stepped forward and tugged at the shower curtain, pulling it back far enough for him to stick his face in, Carol turned so that her back was to him and her body was under the water.

"I really wish you would get out of here," Carol said.

"I just wanta talk ta ya," Daryl said. "Then if ya want me ta leave I'll go. Ya body guard's still out here."

"What is there to say, Daryl?" Carol asked. Her shoulders sagged, but she kept her back to him. "Do we really have to do this while I'm in the shower naked? It's a little unfair."

Daryl sighed and started stripping off his clothes, ignoring the fact that he was outside the curtain and had an audience. He dropped his clothes in a pile making sure to make enough noise as possible. He didn't really even care when Alice whistled at him when he stepped out of his pants.

"Ya happy?" He asked. "I'm as naked as the day I was born an' I ain't even covered up by the curtain neither."

Carol turned a little, glancing over her shoulder. She sighed.

"Step in here, Daryl," she said. "At least get in the curtain."

Daryl stepped in and for the first time in a while he was in the shower stall, naked, and only a few inches from Carol's back. He wanted to touch her, to run his hands over her skin and tell her how sorry he was. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry that he was an asshole and he was sorry that he couldn't take care of her. He was sorry that he couldn't be the man that she deserved, and the man that she needed, on so many levels. He reached his right hand forward and rested it gently on the curve of her hip. He felt her tense immediately.

"Don't touch me, Daryl," Carol said. Her voice was stone cold.

"Not touching, you heard the lady," Alice called from outside. "Don't make me come in there."

Daryl moved his hand. He swallowed, trying to figure out what he wanted to say, what would be the right thing to say.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wish ya would just look at me. I ain't gonna touch ya…just look at me."

Carol shook her head.

"I don't want to look at you right now, Daryl," Carol said. "I don't even really want to listen to you right now, but I am. Be happy that you're getting that much if you've got something that you need to say to me."

Daryl sighed.

"Carol, I fucked up," Daryl said.

Carol chuckled and Daryl winced when it rang in the shower room around him making Alice laugh outside.

"Which part did you fuck up on, Daryl?" Carol asked.

"I fucked up on all of it, OK?" He asked.

Carol shook her head.

"No…no, it's not OK, Daryl. I want to hear you say it. Where did you fuck up? Which part of all of this was a fuck up?" Carol asked. He thought he could hear her voice shaking, but it was hard to talk to her when he couldn't see her. He didn't realize how much he relied on her eyes to do a lot of talking between them.

Daryl thought about it a moment. How he answered this question could end up having a lot of weight on whether or not he actually fixed anything here or if he had to try to get out of the bathroom without fighting with at least Alice, and he wouldn't doubt that she didn't have some kind of army built outside the door in waiting.

"Carol, I ain't…" Daryl started.

"What? You aren't good at this?" Carol interrupted him. "I tell you what, Daryl. I make it easy on you. I don't want poetry. Just a simple list will do. One or two words each. Just tell me what exactly I'm supposed to be forgiving you for this time."

Daryl realized that if he was getting out of this one he was going to have to just bite the bullet and come clean and ignore the fact that he had an audience and that Carol wouldn't even look at him.

"I'm sorry 'cause ya got took an' there weren't no damn thing I could do about it," he said.

"I'm not mad about that," Carol said.

"I'm sorry 'cause I didn't come after ya," Daryl said. "I couldn't save ya an' I can't promise ya that I'm gonna be there for ya when ya need me."

"Daryl, I told you that I'm not mad that you got shot and didn't come. I'm not mad you weren't there. I am mad, though, that you're not exactly proving to me that you'll try to be there for me when I need you. I don't just need you physically, Daryl," Carol said.

"Will ya just look at me?" Daryl asked.

"No, I won't," Carol said. "You get distracted too easily when I'm naked. You keep on because don't think you've exhausted the list of reasons you're sorry…or at least of reasons I think you should be."

Daryl sighed again.

"I'm sorry that I said ya was cheatin' on me an' I'm sorry that I told ya that I didn't care or that I wanted ya ta go or whatever the fuck I said. Jesus, Carol! I don't even know what the fuck I said 'cause I didn't mean a fuckin' word of it. I was just runnin' my mouth, an' I'm sorry I done it," Daryl said. "I thought it was gonna make me feel better."

Carol turned a little then, looking over her shoulder. If her eyes weren't red, Daryl wouldn't have known if she was crying or if she was just dripping from the shower spray that was running down her.

"Did it make you feel better?" She asked. She shook her head a little. "Did any of this make you feel even one bit better?"

Daryl bit his lip. He didn't want to be some kind of pansy ass, not like Merle would have said he was, but he felt like wanted to kick himself in the teeth for the shit that he did. It pissed him off even more to think that a lot of what he did he did without even understanding why his brain told him it would be a good idea.

He shook his head, wanting to reach out and touch her, but not wanting her to tense against him again and tell him not to put his hands on her.

"Nah," he said. "Ain't made me feel no damn better."

"I can tolerate a lot of things," Carol said. "But I can't take watching you be who you've been since this accident. And that's all it was, Daryl, an accident. It wasn't anymore your fault than any of us who've gotten hurt, but you seem to think it was supposed to redefine everything about you. I can't take you shutting down and pushing me away for it."

Daryl shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I just know I can't take care a' ya like I want ta take care a' ya. The baby neither. Carol I can't say I'm always gonna be there an' I can't say I'm always gonna come," Daryl said.

Carol turned around then, facing him. She put her hand on the side of his face.

"I don't need you to tell me you're always going to be there and you're always going to come to save me. That isn't what I need at all," Carol said. "You're only human, Daryl. Just like me and just like everyone else in this prison. We're all going to get hurt, and one day we're all going to die, and if no one puts us down, we're all going to turn…that's just the way things are now."

Daryl put his hand over the one she had resting on the side of his face.

"Then what'cha need, Carol? 'Cause ya deserve somebody that can take care a' ya, not somebody that's gon' be laid up somewhere half dead while ya tryin' ta save ya own damn life," Daryl said.

Carol smiled a little.

"You've got to save your life first, Daryl," Carol said. "Let me worry about mine sometimes. What I need is you to say you'll always try to be there. You'll always try to come. Tell me that when you can be there for me, physically or otherwise, that you're going to be there."

"I can't promise that. I never woulda come before," Daryl said.

Carol shook her head.

"You're not listening," she said.

"It's the penis," Alice called from outside the stall. "Clogs up the hearing."

Daryl shook his head, but Carol snickered a little through the tears that were making her voice choke and her eyes red.

"She may have a point," Carol said. "I didn't say I needed you to always be there, I said I needed you to promise me that when you could be, you would be. That's all I really need. Then, if you don't make it…I know something stopped you…I know you couldn't be…but I also know it wasn't because you just changed your mind on me."

Daryl stood there for a minute. Carol was shaking a little from the sobs she was trying to hold in and it sunk more and more into his already aching chest how much he'd hurt her. He'd thought he was hurting. He'd thought that sending her away from him would solve his pain, but it hadn't in the slightest. Instead all it had done was cause her a good bit of pain and now that was hurting him even more.

"Can I touch ya now?" Daryl asked.

Carol didn't say no, but she didn't say yes, so Daryl took a chance and reached his hand out, touching her shoulder. She didn't pull from him or tense, so he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed then, her face buried into his chest of her on accord and he wondered for a moment if she could even breathe.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I swear ta ya, I ain't gonna do it again. I just couldn't stand ta think that I couldn't be there for ya. That there was prob'ly someone else out there that was better for ya, someone who could take care a' ya, an' I weren't the right man. I ain't mean ta hurt'cha like this an' when I found out ya was havin' them nightmares they was startin' ta get inta my head. I was dreamin' that I couldn't get ta ya. Ya needed me an' I couldn't save ya."

He rubbed her back and to his surprise she wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her face against him.

"I've told you before," Carol said, "but I'm not going to say it again, that I don't want anyone else. If you want to be rid of me then tell me to leave you alone, but for crying out loud, Daryl, stop trying to give me away."

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle then.

"Fuck woman, I ain't tryin' ta give ya away. I was thinkin' 'bout shootin' ya boyfriend for a few days there," Daryl said.

Carol pulled away from him, eying him with an air of annoyance.

"I don't have a boyfriend," Carol said. "I have a husband, but he's a pretty big asshole."

Daryl smiled.

"Do ya forgive me?" He asked.

Carol sighed.

"I'm tired, Daryl," Carol said. "I'm tired of thinking that I can count on you not to be an asshole and then finding out that I can't. How do I know you're not going to figure out that you can't do jumping jacks right now or something and that you're not going to go back into whatever this funk thing is that you've had going on?"

Daryl leaned over and tipped her face up, kissing her.

"I'm freezin' my nuts off here just ta get ta tell ya I'm sorry," Daryl said. "I swear ta ya that I mean it this time woman. I ain't the man I wanna be…" he dropped off. He wasn't, in a lot of ways the man he wanted to be. He didn't know if it was possible for him to ever be that.

"You're the man I want you to be, though," Carol said. "If you'll stop pushing me away and running away from me…don't you think maybe we could work on the rest together?"

Daryl bit his lip and nodded his head a little at her. She was staring at him, her eyes locked on him. He didn't think she'd stared at him that intently ever before.

"So ya gon' give me another chance, woman?" Daryl asked. "Lemme try an' get out a' ya damn nightmares?"

Carol stood there, biting at the inside of her mouth. She sighed.

"How does a trial period sound?" She asked.

Daryl looked at her. He wasn't sure what they would do with a trial period, or what they'd do after it for that matter. Honestly the prison wasn't exactly designed to provide the best break up life. You could change your cell, but it was pretty damn hard to change anything else. He was also afraid that he'd keep fucking up because his mind would be so damn focused on her time slot.

Still, if that's what she wanted, then he supposed he owed her whatever it was that she needed to get out of this. Not to mention the fact that he really was freezing. He knew she was fine, but she was under the hot water, he was just catching the icy spray that came off of it.

He nodded his head a little.

"What kinda trial?" He asked.

"Twelve weeks," Carol said. "You've got twelve weeks to prove to me that I'm not making some kind of mistake by trying this yet again. If you keep being an asshole, at the end of twelve weeks I'm taking my baby and I'm moving to Alice and Mel's cell and we're all getting married to each other."

"Hell yeah we are!" Alice called from outside. "And as part of our nuptials we have to burn a sacrificial penis at some kinda fuckin' altar and I think I know where it's coming from."

Daryl shook his head a little.

"Fine," Daryl said. "I'll take ya trial."

Carol smiled and leaned in to kiss him. He kissed her back and held, letting his hands slide down her sides. He shivered at the contrast of her warmth to the chill that was creeping over her body. When they broke apart he put his forehead to hers.

"I love ya, woman, I'm sorry ya married an asshole," Daryl said.

"I love you too," Carol said. "And I prefer to think of you as a work in progress."

Daryl snickered a little.

"Do you need a shower?" Carol asked.

"Couldn't hurt," Daryl said.

Carol pulled him under the water and for a moment he huddled with her, not wanting her to freeze outside of it either.

"Alice," Carol called.

"What do you need?" Alice called back.

"You can go now," Carol called. "But do you think you might be able to come up with some medical reason to pull one of those heaters a little closer to our cell?"

Alice chuckled.

"By the time I make it to the common area, I'll have come up with a damn good medical reason that you need some extra heat," Alice said. "Glad you two made up and all, but no horseplay in the showers. Both of you have actual medical reasons that I'd rather neither one of you break something in those slippery ass stalls."

"Don't worry," Carol called back. "No funny business in the shower right now."

Daryl heard Alice walking across the shower room floor and he heard the door squeak open.

"I mean that. Break something and I'm going to be hella pissed at the both of you," Alice called. The door thudded closed and Carol pushed Daryl under the water, pulling away a little.

"You heard her," Carol said. "You better get your shower so we can head back to the cell. It's too cold out here to wait much."

Daryl grinned at her, his heart pounding. He couldn't believe that he felt like he did at the moment, but just the fact that she'd forgiven him, and that it seemed like once again she was going to let him try to get his shit together and start from square one, had his heart pounding like he'd never been in the shower with her before and like the whole damn thing was something brand new to him. He hoped that this was the last time he ever had to come and apologize for a laundry list of all the fucked up things he'd done. He had twelve weeks to prove to her that he really didn't want to be a monumental fuck up, and to prove to her that even if he couldn't always be there, he was going to give it his best damn try to be the best he could fucking be when he was there. He just hoped that for once he was a lucky man and life worked in his favor.


	73. Chapter 73

**AN: A little something for your holiday! I'm going to update a few others today if time permits and I'll get back here as soon as I can. **

**I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! **

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When they got back to the cell, Alice had put the clothes that Carol had in her cell in a neat pile on the bed and of the smaller heaters that they had in storage but hadn't dusted off yet was pulled into the middle of their cell floor so that the room was very nearly the warmest place Carol had been since summer had begun to phase out.

The warmth of the space almost made Carol too sleepy to focus on anything else, especially coupled with the odd comfort that came just from passing through the threshold and back into the familiar space of her cell, surrounded by the smells that she'd come to associate with her life there and the odd sense of safety and security of the tight enclosure. Daryl was a bit behind her, carrying things, and she stripped out of her clothes, leaving on the oversized flannel shirt that she used as a nightgown and her underwear. She crawled under the cover and was waiting there when Daryl got into the cell, dropping the dirty clothes and towels in their designated space.

Carol had inched herself toward the wall into the second half of the bunk. Daryl's recovery wasn't complete yet, and the effort of climbing over the beds might still be a bit much for him. Though the beds were wired together and it was the best they could do to have a double bed, it was still a very rudimentary design and a little difficult to navigate.

Daryl sat down on the side of the bed, his hands in his lap, looking at her in the lamplight.

"Looks like everybody's 'bout near cleared out the common space," Daryl said. "It's awful early for it too."

Carol smiled.

"People have a way around here of figuring out when you might want just a little privacy," Carol said. She figured that Alice had very likely asked everyone to consider an early retirement to their cells.

Daryl slid forward and took her hand. She let him have it and he guided it to his mouth, kissing it before resting it for a second against his cheek. Carol could feel her pulse speed up a little as though her heart was trying to skip beats. The nearness of Daryl was enough to send her heart into some kind of overtime speed.

Daryl leaned in to try to kiss her, but she could tell from the look on his face that the position wasn't the most comfortable thing for him. She leaned up, their mouths meeting for a moment before she pulled away.

"We're not a great pair for this right now," Carol said, smiling at him. Daryl smiled and chuckled a little.

"S'posed ta get better, right?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded.

"In a little while it's going to be a little better for you and a little more difficult for me," Carol said. She pulled her elbow up under her head and Daryl sat next to her, still looking at her, his fingers running somewhat absently over her face and shoulders.

"I don't know if we gon' figure out how ta…ya know…have sex like this…" Daryl said.

Carol nodded her head.

"We'll figure it out," she said. "Might not be some kind of award winning acrobatic sex when we do, but we'll figure it out."

She smiled at him and pulled his hand into hers so she could hold it. She examined, for a moment, their hands in the lamplight. Both of them had marks of callouses, burns, blisters. The days before and after all of this had not been kind to either of their hands. When she looked at her own, sometimes, she thought back to when she was young and she always used to look at her mother's hands. They were beautiful. Soft, almost perfect…and her nails were always neatly done. Carol thought that her own hands looked old, older than they should, and she wasn't even going to think about what someone who was concerned with their nails would have said about them.

But they fit, somehow, with Daryl's hands. His were rough and they'd been dirty so often now that they were almost stained with dark patches. She imagined no amount of scrubbing could bring them clean. She smiled, tracing her fingertip along his fingers. She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his fingers.

"Ya look like ya upset," Daryl said. He shifted and lie down in the bed, propping himself up a little and facing her. "Did I do somethin' else?"

Carol shook her head.

"Not at all," she said. "I was just thinking about my mama."

Daryl took his hand from her then and rubbed her hair, bringing it around under her chin and pushing her face toward him.

"Don't think about it if it's gonna make ya sad," Daryl said. Carol smiled at him.

"I was just thinking about her hands, Daryl," Carol said.

"Her hands?" Daryl asked. He chewed at his cuticle and Carol smiled at the thought of why it was Daryl's fingertips almost always seemed to be dotted with tiny specks of dried blood.

"I was thinking that she had beautiful hands. They were really soft and white," Carol said. "She had pretty hands."

Daryl crinkled his nose up a bit.

"Hands ain't pretty or ugly, is they? I mean they just hands," Daryl said.

Carol snickered.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I guess I was just realizing I don't have her hands."

Daryl took her hand in his then, holding it up close to his face and looking at it.

"I reckon ya got nice hands," he said. "They pretty soft ta me."

Carol shifted around a little in response to the movement of the baby who was now wide awake and for all she could tell practicing for some kind of swimming challenge. She pulled her hand from Daryl and pressed it to her belly. Daryl was watching her.

"Give me your hand," she said, knowing full well he really didn't want to do that. He surprised her, though, stretching his hand and putting it over hers without argument. She moved hers and Daryl sat there, a concerned look on his face, with his palm stretched out against her. "You can see it now, sometimes," she said. She unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing and pulled it back enough to reveal her belly. "Might be too dark in here…"

Daryl leaned in, the furrow between his brows deepening. Carol knew that baby was going to move. It had gotten bunched more toward the right side and that wasn't going to do for long. After a few minutes, it did make the shift she was expecting and Daryl looked at her, almost like he was going to laugh.

"You saw it?" She asked. Daryl put his hand back.

"Really is in there, ain't it?" He said. Carol nodded.

"A lot happens when you stop paying attention," Carol said. "He's pretty hyper, especially at night. When I think it's time to be still, he thinks it's really time to get going."

"So it's a boy?" Daryl asked.

Carol shrugged.

"I don't know. Alice can't tell those things, but we're just calling it "he" because we don't know what else to call it. We figure it's a fifty fifty chance either way." Carol said.

Daryl rubbed her belly and she scooted toward him, bringing her face close enough to his that he could lean in easily and kiss her. She tangled her hand in his hair, holding him there while she trailed her tongue inside his mouth, tasting the familiar taste of him.

"Do you want to make love to me?" She asked him, she felt herself blushing and wished that her cheeks didn't automatically respond every time she thought about being with him. She couldn't help it, though. She'd ever imagine that she'd be so straight forward with him.

He nodded slightly and then he shrugged a little, looking at her.

"I'm 'bout good as a' old man," he said. "An' when I weren't lookin' it seems ya got a whole lotta extra baby from somewhere. I ain't too sure it's gonna work."

Carol snickered.

She unbuttoned the shirt and wrestled out of it, and then she slid her underwear down, kicking it somewhere at the foot of the bed.

"I'm willing to give it a try if you are," she said. "I think I might have an idea."

Daryl bit his lip a little and eased himself up. He got off the bed and stripped down out of what he'd been wearing to protect him from the cold corridors between the shower and the cell.

"Reckon I can try anything once," he said.

Carol nodded and rolled over, facing the wall. She looked back over her shoulder at Daryl and smiled at him.

"Come on down here, then," she said.

Daryl lie down and immediately kissed her shoulder. She didn't know why, but he'd always been fond of kissing her shoulders. She shivered a little at the touch. Carol reached behind her and stroked him for a moment, hearing his breathing start to pick up. She could feel herself responding just to the sound.

She slid as best she could, bringing their bodies together and guiding him to her.

"Might not be the best you ever had," Carol said.

Daryl took her lead from there and moved himself, bringing himself into her while she tried to rearrange their legs and arms so that everything had somewhere to go. She almost laughed at the feeling that they were trying to put together some kind of puzzle, but just having him inside her was everything she really wanted at the moment.

Daryl kissed her shoulder again, bucking gently, his hand around her, rubbing her. She moaned out, rolling her face to the side and burying it in the mattress.

They rocked together, both of them lost in the moment. It was slow and it was gentle, neither of them able at the moment to give any effort that would impress a professional, but Carol thought it was the most amazing thing she'd ever felt. Beyond the sexual coming together, there was the electric tingling of simply enjoying the soft movements of their bodies together, lazily searching each other out. When Carol felt her orgasm seizing her, she didn't bother to fight it at all. She found Daryl's hand, just as she felt the build reaching its peak, and she wrapped hers around it as she went over the edge. A moment later she felt him reach his release too, moaning into her back, the scruff from his chin dragging across the skin there.

They lie there, in the same position for a few moments. Their bodies tight together. Daryl's arm across her, his hand wrapped tightly in hers. She felt the feather light kisses he was sprinkling on her back in the space just where his lips touched her skin. Neither of them really wanting to move.

"I love you," Carol said after a moment.

"Love ya too," Daryl said. He rubbed his fingers against her hand. "I can't promise I ain't gon' fuck up…I feel like I'm pretty good at it an' twelve damn weeks is a long time ta go without doin' somethin' ya do damn near every day."

Carol chuckled a little and shifted, trying to get more comfortable but not wanting yet to relinquish the spot she was in.

"You don't have to be perfect, Daryl. That's not what I mean," she said. "I'm not expecting that from you at all. I just want you…I want you to learn to forgive yourself. I want you to learn that it's OK that you can't be some kind of superhero. And I want you to want to do the right thing, even if you don't always make it happen."

Daryl kissed her in response and then he moved, shifting his body up and breaking the contact. Carol decided that since it was broken she might as well put forth the effort required to roll over and find a comfortable spot on her side of the bed.

"I guess I just wanna be your superhero," Daryl said. "Hell I don't need no damn cape nor nothin', but I wanted ya ta be able ta look at me like I was somethin'…I don't know…like I was someone you could count on."

Carol didn't look at him for a moment. She went about getting situated. Once she was, she pulled the cover over her. With the heat she decided she really didn't need to worry about wrestling into her clothes again.

"You are my superhero, Daryl," Carol said. "You did everything you could for Sophia…you gave me something to care about when I wasn't sure that I was going to find that ever again. You saved me right off that farm…you found me in the tombs when I thought I was going to die…you saved me from the Governor…and you made me a mother again. You're a pretty big superhero. Even Batman had a sidekick, you know? So he could take a break sometime."

Daryl shifted around on his side of the bed, nervously tugging at the cover and arranging and rearranging his pillow. Carol knew he was trying to come to terms with the whole thing and avoid letting himself be drug down by whatever feelings of inadequacy he couldn't seem to let go of. They were deep rooted, and she knew and understood that. They weren't going away overnight.

She smiled at him.

"Really, Daryl, it's you that should be looking for someone better," Carol said. "It's always been you. My only real claim to fame in this situation is that I happened to be the first one to attack you in your cell…and I got lucky enough to be picked to carry your butterbean…but anyone could have done that."

"See? An' I wish ya wouldn't say shit like that," Daryl said. Carol smiled.

"I'm not saying it for you to feel sorry for me, Daryl," Carol said. "I'm saying it so you realize that it doesn't actually matter what we do for each other when we break it down to facts. Do you love me any less because I'm not like Michonne and I don't just go and take my katana and chop down entire herds of Walkers with my eyes closed?"

Daryl snickered at her and shook his head.

"Do you love me any less because…I'm not like Alice and I can't run around putting people's heads back on and threatening to surgically attach your penis to your head where she would say it should be sometimes?" Carol asked, smiling at Daryl.

Daryl chuckled again.

"Hell no, woman," he said.

"So see? I love you for you, period. Everything you do is just extra…a little something more to who you are, but mostly it's just you that I love," Carol said. "So don't treat the man I love badly just because he happened to get shot, OK? I'm not going to stand for that."

Daryl smiled at her and slid a little closer to her. She eased as close to him as she dared, knowing that the part of the bed directly between them wasn't exactly the kind of cavern that either of them wanted to be stuck in for the rest of the night. Daryl ran his finger through her hair.

"If I try not ta be an asshole, an' I try not ta be pissed off 'cause I couldn't do for ya what I wanted ta do, then ya gotta do somethin' for me too," Daryl said.

Carol nodded a little.

"I'm listening," she said.

"Ya gotta quit sayin' that ya ain't done nothin' for me that can't no other woman do," Daryl said. "'Cause I ain't never let no damn other woman be as important ta me as you is…an' that right there means that ya already done somethin' couldn't not another damn soul do."

Carol smiled.

"Fine, Daryl, you've got a deal. I won't say it anymore if you don't want me too," Carol said. "We'll both work on giving ourselves a break, how's that?"

"Sounds like we gotta lot a' work ta do," Daryl said, chuckling. "All of a sudden I ain't thinkin' twelve weeks is a very long time."

Carol smiled.

"Twelve weeks isn't very long," Carol said. "But we don't have to be finished products by then. We just need to be working on it. The Bean's going to want to join us then, and he really doesn't need to come into the middle of all of this, now does he?"

Daryl put his hand on her belly again, far more interested in it now. She was wondering if it was becoming more real to him now that he could see and feel proof of it, but she wasn't going to draw attention to it. She spent all her time in close contact with the baby, he didn't have the same experience and she wasn't going to deny him having whatever kind of experience he wanted to build with it.

"I reckon he could come inta worse," Daryl said. "But I do think he deserves better."

"Well, he's stuck with us," Carol said, "so I guess the only way he's getting better is if we do a little self-improvement. I'm in if you are."

"I'm in," Daryl said. "Can't do much else right now, anyway, right?"

Carol knew what he was referring to, but she smiled and changed the gears a little before he happened to slip into feeling sorry for himself again.

"Right," she said. "It's too cold for doing too much."

Daryl shook his head a little at her but smiled.

"Go ta sleep, woman," he growled. Carol giggled. "And don't'cha be havin' no damn nightmares 'bout my ass neither."

Carol nodded her head.

"I'll try not to," she said. She knew she couldn't control her nightmares any more than she could control the weather outside. She hated to know that Daryl had started to become part of them, but it was really outside of her control.

"Well," Daryl said, "even if ya do I'm gonna be here. I'll make sure ya get outta 'em. That much I can promise ta save ya from at least."

Carol smiled.

"My hero," she said with a yawn.


	74. Chapter 74

**AN: So here's a little something more to our story. It's all fluffy and stuff because I'm really fluffy right now. Sorry about that to those of you who don't like fluffy stuff…but then again I'm not sure how you made it anywhere in any of my stories if you don't like the fluffy stuff. LOL**

**Time to start weighing in too. PM me, include in a review, whatever you want to do on the butterbean. Is it a boy? Is it a girl? What would you name our baby Dixon? We've still got a bit to go, but I like to play ahead and I can always use all the help I can get, especially with naming things. I'm very bad at it…LOL So weigh in and give me some ideas! **

**I hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think! **

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When Daryl woke up he was surprised at how warm he still was, and still sleepy. The lamp was burning on the little table beside the bed and the smell of the oil was strangely soothing, though it had taken him some time to adjust to liking that particular scent.

Daryl rolled a little, feeling the aching hitch in his body, and realized that he was alone in the cell, but he'd never heard or felt Carol when she'd left.

He lie back, debating whether or not he felt like wrestling out of his position at the moment. There wasn't really all that much that he could do right now around the prison and he wasn't sure he really felt like leaving the bed at all, less likely leaving it just to stand around in the freezing cold and watch others do things he wasn't quite able to accomplish yet.

Daryl was still debating when Carol came pushing through the curtain of the cell, two bowls in her hands. She wasn't looking at him at first. She turned and immediately rested the bowls on the dresser that was wedged into the now fairly tight space that they shared.

Daryl watched her, knowing that she wasn't aware that he was looking at her. She'd said something the night before that had resonated with him, something he'd thought about as he was falling asleep. She'd said he hadn't been paying attention to her. She'd said it in passing, but it had stuck with him, almost like a sandspur caught in his sock. He hadn't been paying attention, not since the accident.

She was doing something to what Daryl could now tell from the smell was breakfast, and it smelled delicious. Upon further inspection he realized she was seasoning it, humming a little to herself, still unaware that he was awake.

The baby had filled her out. He'd paid attention, close attention, the night before to how the baby was filling her body out, but now he noticed more that her face had filled out more as well. He liked it on her, and he hoped it wasn't something that was going to disappear as soon as the baby decided to make its appearance into the world.

Carol turned then, taking up one of the bowls, and as her gaze fell over him she stopped humming and realization spread across her face that he was awake and he was watching her.

"I didn't think you'd be awake just yet," she said. "You were sleeping like a log earlier."

Daryl smiled.

"Like the dead if they bothered sleepin'," he said. Carol smiled.

"That too, though I try not to talk about the dead these days if it can be avoided," she said. She turned a little and picked up the other bowl and started toward him, a smile across her face.

"Ya look pretty damn excited about breakfast, woman," Daryl said, mirroring her smile. "Smells damn good though, so I can't say as I blame ya."

"It's just grits," Carol said. "With the stew that was leftover. I may have fished out a little more rabbit for our bowls than everyone else's, though."

Carol handed him a plate and he balanced it in the hand that was holding him propped on the mattress. He reached the other out to take hers and she handed it over while she settled herself on the edge of the mattress, her back resting just against his thighs.

He passed her one of the plates and she smelled it, looking more like she was about to dive into some kind of gourmet feast instead of into a bowl of lumpy grits and leftover stew. Daryl tasted his own food and quickly identified that she'd been seasoning it earlier and apparently the small bottle she'd left on the dresser was pepper. It was just enough to add some flavor where the meal might have otherwise been pretty bland. It was odd fare for breakfast, but these days if it ate well it went for any meal.

"Reckon we got the pick a' the pot," Daryl said. Carol nodded a little, not stopping from filling her mouth with her food. "Benefits of havin' ya wife as the top chef."

Carol shrugged a little.

"All we made was the grits," she said through a half full mouth. "We're keeping the generators running." She swallowed and wiped at her mouth with her fingertips. "It's sleeting or snowing or something outside. It's absolutely disgusting, so everyone is just sort of hunkering down to sleep the day away. Since the generators were going we used one of the stoves in the cafeteria to get this on and Melodye and Cynthia are camped out in there now baking some stuff that they found mixes for. We'll have some kind of treat to go with dinner…which they're also handling. Alice thinks we should consider it Christmas."

They didn't have much in the way of celebration around the prison. A good meal was about as good as it got and even those were few and far between at times. Daryl had never really had much use for things like Christmas, though. It was mostly just another day in his life, nothing special.

"If'n it's Christmas, what we doin' ta celebrate?" He asked. He figured Carol would be a sucker for that kind of thing.

She smiled at him, still focused primarily on her food. He was enjoying his, but he considered leaving some of it for her to finish. He could tell that she was enjoying it to the point that she was going to be sad when the bowl was empty.

"I don't know," she said. "Really no one is doing anything. Most people are just sleeping or playing games in their cells. We could do whatever you want."

Daryl didn't really know what he wanted to do. Killing a day in the cell wasn't something he usually enjoyed. He already had cabin fever so bad that he probably would have run screaming a time or two if he'd had the ability. Still, he wasn't actually in an antsy mood at the moment.

"This is kinda nice right here," Daryl said.

"What?" Carol asked, scraping her bowl clean. "Breakfast?"

Daryl reached over and took her empty bowl, passing her what was left in his. She moved like she would protest, but he pushed it toward her, letting her know that he wasn't going to argue with her.

"Eat it," he said. "I'm good, really. Ya gotta feed the bean too."

Carol offered him a half smile and the face that she normally made when she wanted to thank him for something but didn't actually form the words.

"An' I meant it was just kinda nice just bein' here right now…I don't know, feels different today," Daryl said.

Carol smiled. This time it was the real smile, the kind that lit up everything around her. He couldn't help but smile in response.

"What'cha grinnin' at?" He asked.

"Christmas," Carol said. "I guess that's why it feels nice…it's like Christmas."

Daryl shrugged a little.

"Don't mean too much ta me," Daryl said. "Ain't never been no big Christmas kinda guy."

"Didn't you ever celebrate it?" Carol asked.

Daryl shook his head slightly. He couldn't remember anything really special happening. Once or twice he remembered getting gifts…sharing something with Merle, but it just hadn't been a big deal, and it had been almost entirely forgotten when the two of them had struck out on their own. He snickered.

"Can ya see me an' Merle doin' shit for Christmas?" He asked.

Carol frowned.

"No, I don't suppose so," she said. "Christmas wasn't much when I was married to Ed…not until Sophia came along. I did things for her, though. I wanted her to have good Christmas memories. I'm sure they weren't quite like the ones I had as a child, but I hope they were pretty good…while they lasted."

Carol finished off the bowl that had been Daryl's and he took it out of her hands putting the two bowls together and resting them on the floor just in front of the small nightstand.

"I bet they were somethin' else," Daryl said, lying back in bed and folding his hands under his head.

Carol looked a little distant for a moment, her face taking on a dreamy appearance. Daryl didn't know if she was thinking about Christmases gone by with her family or if she was thinking about Christmases with Sophia, but he was certain that spending the day lazing around with him in a prison cell probably didn't paint quite as pretty a picture as whatever she was thinking about.

Carol shifted after a moment and one of her hands went to her belly. She rubbed it and then her eyes focused on Daryl again.

"Bean movin'?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded, smiling a little.

"'Cause he heard ya talkin' 'bout Christmas an' got all excited," Daryl said, offering a halfhearted chuckle. "Ya wanna move up here with me? Get comfortable?"

Carol looked at him and then looked at the space on the other side of the bed. Daryl followed her gaze for a moment and then slowly started shifting his weight, moving over to the other side so that she didn't have to crawl over him.

"Make it easy on ya," he said. Carol smiled again and moved up toward the head of the bed. She leaned over, bringing her lips to his and held the kiss a moment. Daryl let himself enjoy the warmth of her lips against his and the taste of her mouth tinged with breakfast.

"Thank you," Carol said.

"For movin'?" He asked with a chuckle. She shrugged a little and worked to rearrange herself, getting comfortable on the bed beside him with her back propped against the wall.

"It's not as easy as it looks crawling over you and the bed," Carol said, running her hands over her belly. Daryl reached out, putting his hand palm down near where she was rubbing hers. He could feel the baby now, better than he ever really had before, shifting under her skin. It felt strange and weird and all those things that he wasn't supposed to say, but it felt pretty fascinating too. He'd known that the kid was in there, or at least he'd known that everyone promised him it was, but it was odd to feel it and have it be so evident that there was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, something living in there that was completely separate from Carol.

"How'd ya get outta bed this mornin'?" Daryl asked, surprised he hadn't been woken up.

"I crawled to the foot," Carol said. Eased over your legs. It wasn't that bad and you were out like a light. You didn't even budge."

Daryl could feel that he had slept well. He felt well rested…better rested than he had in some time.

"So now that it's our first official Christmas," Daryl said, "an' it looks like we gonna spend it talkin' in bed, what'cha wanna talk about?"

Carol shrugged a little.

"You said you didn't celebrate Christmas," she ventured after a moment. "If you had, though…if right now everything wasn't what it is…what would you want us to do? What would our ideal Christmas look like?"

Daryl rolled his eyes at her.

"I don't know, Carol," he said. "Let's talk about somethin' real."

"Fine," she said. "I just thought we have our imaginations…we could talk about what we wish could happen."

"OK then," Daryl said. "Ya gotta go first, though. If this was ya perfect Christmas, what the hell would we be doin'?"

Carol smiled and leaned her head back against the wall. She was obviously much better at picturing things than Daryl was because she looked instantly happier and he imagined she was inside some kind of snow globe in her mind.

"Well," she said, "we'd have a tree and it would be decorated. I'd be baking something…probably gingerbread or something with cinnamon…I love the smell of it."

"I'm likin' this shit already," Daryl said, shifting and folding his elbow so that his head could be propped up and he could watch how damn excited she looked while she daydreamed about this holiday they'd never see together.

"If it's a perfect Christmas then it can snow, right?" Carol asked.

"Fine with me," Daryl answered.

Carol smiled.

"Then we'd build snowmen," Carol said. "We'd build a little snow family right out in the front yard."

"Awful lotta snow for Georgia," Daryl said. "Best I ever done was raked together one snowman an' that took a couple other kids an' all the snow outta 'bout six yards."

Carol swatted him and he chuckled.

"It's imaginary!" She protested. Daryl chuckled again rubbing her belly again with his free hand. The baby had stopped moving and he was hoping that rubbing it might start it back up since he was nervous about prodding about in there.

"Ya right," he said, "I'm sorry. We got our snow family…now what the hell else is gonna happen?"

Carol shrugged a little.

"I don't know, really. I guess I would think it was perfect if we were just snuggled up then…by a fireplace or something. Wrapped up in blankets and just being together," she said.

"Ya ain't gettin' no presents?" Daryl asked.

Carol reached over and ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp the way that he liked.

"The presents don't really matter," Carol said. "That's not what the feeling of Christmas is about."

"Sound like a damn inspirational movie or some shit," Daryl said. "Pick yaself outta fuckin' gift, woman. I'm buyin'. What the hell ya get in our magical Christmas?"

Carol laughed at him.

"I don't know," she said, her voice rising a few octaves. "I really don't know. I don't want anything…what would you want?"

Daryl realized that now that the question was directed at him, it wasn't as easy as it had seemed. The truth was that adjusting to the new lifestyle around them had made them appreciate every single thing that they had more than even he could ever imagine they would. It had also made it so that you just didn't hear anyone really talking about wanting things anymore like they used to.

"I reckon I don't know either," Daryl said.

"I don't think we need presents," Carol said. "At least I don't. We've got each other, right?"

"An' the bean," Daryl said.

"And the bean," Carol said, smiling. "I don't think that I really care that much about anything else. I mean even the ideal Christmas…it's nice to just get away in your imagination and pretend, but we don't need those things."

Daryl pulled her hand to him, kissing it and then rubbing the backs of her fingers against his cheek.

"I don't want'cha ta decide ta leave me," Daryl said, after a moment. "Even if I fuck up in the next twelve weeks…I don't want'cha ta go runnin' off."

Carol pulled her hand loose from his and cupped his face, her thumb trailing back and forth on his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said. "I just…I just want to know that you're trying Daryl. I want to know that you're not going to run out on me…physically or emotionally. I don't want you to pull away from me anymore."

"I ain't," Daryl said.

Carol sat there quietly for a moment, her thumb continuing to rub across his face. Daryl reached up and caught her hand, stilling its motions. He pulled it around and kissed the inside of her wrist.

"Hey," she said, "I know what we can talk about…"

"What?" Daryl asked. He was glad she was changing the subject. He didn't want to dwell on the feelings he was having…especially not if this was supposed to be some kind of special day. After all, it was supposed to be their Christmas, even if they were just spending it in their cell enjoying a little extra warmth from the electric heaters that burned just outside.

"What do you want the bean to be? A boy or a girl?" Carol asked. Daryl smiled at her and reached out, gently pinching the skin at her hip.

"Ain't no want to it!" Daryl said. "Kid's a Dixon. Ya can bet'cha teeth it's a boy."

Carol chuckled.

"Why ya wantin' a girl?" Daryl asked.

Carol shook her head a little.

"I don't really care," she said. "I know it's clichéd but I just want it to be healthy."

Daryl scoffed at her.

"Ya don't get off with an answer like that, woman! Ya asked the damn question an' now ya gotta answer it," Daryl said. Carol smiled at him.

"I don't care," she repeated. "I think it might be a boy, though."

"Told ya," Daryl said. Carol stuck her tongue out at him and giggled when he pinched her side again.

"What are we going to name him?" Carol asked.

"Hell if I know," Daryl said. "I ain't no damn good at namin' things. Be my guest, ya can name him whatever tickles ya fancy."

"What if I want you to name him?" Carol asked.

"I told ya," Daryl said. "Ain't no damn good at namin' shit."

"I've got an idea," Carol said.

"Well ain't'cha just full up a' ideas today?" Daryl said. "An' what might'cha idea be?"

"We'll both come up with names," Carol said. "One boy name and one girl name. Then we'll write them down but we won't tell each other. We get everyone in the prison to vote on the names and then we find out the day the baby's born what to name it. Then everyone's involved."

Daryl chuckled.

"An' let's just say some smart ass…like Glenn…decides ta vote ta name our fuckin' kid some shit like Fido? Then what?" Daryl asked.

"Well obviously, we wouldn't put that in as our name. I'm not picking that as a name, were you?" Carol asked.

"Don't know what the hell I'd pick," Daryl said. "But I don't reckon that'd be it."

Carol shrugged.

"Well see? They can only pick out of the two names we give them, so it's not like they can come up with something terrible. It could be fun…an extra surprised. Besides, if we don't like it then we don't have to name the baby that…nobody can make us," Carol said.

Now Daryl was wondering what he'd name the kid. In his mind it was just the bean, but that wasn't really a decent name for a kid. He tried to picture what the kid might look like…what it might be like when the kid was older…but his imagination wasn't all that great and it was coming out a generic looking kind of kid at best.

It was odd, now, to think that the kid was really going to be there. It was going to get born and they were going to name it. Whatever they decided on would be their kid's actual fucking name that it would carry with it for the rest of its life, and Daryl hoped it was a long life. Suddenly it was kind of exciting to Daryl to think that his kid was going to be born and they were going to come up with a name for it.

"Fine," he said. "It's a deal. We both come up with a name for him."

"Or her," Carol said. "You need one boy name and one girl name. Remember, though, you can't let me know what you picked and I can't let you know what I picked until it's born."

"Deal," Daryl said. He sat there for a minute. "Fuck…now I don't know what ta pick," he said.

Carol chuckled.

"Well at least now we've got something to keep us busy for part of the day," Carol said.

"I'ma come up with somethin' good," Daryl said. "Ya just wait, woman. Ya gonna be impressed when they tell ya my name."

Carol chuckled.

"Oh so now you've gone from you don't care to you're going to be the one to come up with the name that they choose?" Carol asked.

Daryl chuckled.

"Damn straight," Daryl said. "Ya just wait…"

Carol reached over and took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers and letting their hands rest together on the bed between them.

"I can't wait, Daryl," she said. "I'm sure it's going to be the most suiting name ever for a Dixon."

Daryl leaned back on the bed and thought about it. Whatever he came up with had to be the best name there was. It was going to be his kind, after all, that carried the name around for the rest of its life. And he wouldn't mind too much, either, impressing everyone with his new found kid naming abilities.


	75. Chapter 75

**AN: Just a little something as we progress along. I've had half of this chapter done for a while so I figured I'd go ahead and get it finished and put up. More to come before too long! **

**Thank you for your suggestions for names. There are quite a few that I like, now I just have to figure out which direction I'm going in! **

**I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! **

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Daryl woke up with a start when the scream first rang out. He didn't know what he'd been dreaming about, but he knew it wasn't supposed to include a howling cry from Carol. Daryl rolled over quickly as he came into consciousness, his side clenching. He grimaced against the pain and reached out, shaking Carol as he made contact with her.

"Wake up, Carol!" He said, pushing at her. The cry stopped and was replaced by something almost like a choking sound. Daryl couldn't see in the darkness so he tried to feel around for her. "Jesus, don't choke ta death, woman!"

"Everything alright?" Rick's voice rang out.

"Fuckin' awesome!" Daryl called back. He knew that the prison was used to Carol's nightmares by now, but it still paid for everyone to be alert at night if someone went to screaming. It could just mean a nightmare but it could also mean anything from Walkers to deranged psychos.

Carol was quieting down now, though, and the alert was probably dying down.

"I can't drag ya," Daryl said. "Come on over here an' find me an' I can hold ya, though."

Carol shifted toward him and he wriggled around with her. When she finally settled in with him he was not at all comfortable, but he wasn't going to say anything about it. Carol was making a noise somewhere between a choke and a sob and he could feel her body trembling. He knew those kinds of nightmares. They weren't just the scary little something's after me kind of terrors. They were the kind of nightmares that if it were possible to die in your sleep from something you dreamed, you would damn near do it when they came.

"S'OK," Daryl said. "I got'cha. Ain't nothin' gettin' ya. I might be an asshole but I ain't gonna hurt'cha an' I ain't lettin' nobody else hurt'cha neither."

Carol calmed a little against him and he flicked the cover up making sure she was covered.

"Wanta tell me what the hell's got'cha shakin' so damn bad?" He asked. He was almost afraid of the answer, but he wanted to know. He wanted to know what it was that was doing that to her.

"It's a little different every time," Carol said.

Daryl rubbed his chin downward and felt it swipe against the top of her head in the darkness, he could feel her face against him. Her fear had also apparently woken his offspring because he could feel the odd sensation of her belly weighing on him on the movement taking place there.

He chuckled a little.

"Ya woke the kid up," he said. "Why don't'cha tell me what tonight was about? Ya went a whole night without anything…so what got'cha goin' tonight?"

Carol rooted her face into him a little.

"I don't know…" she said. "I don't know what makes it happen. The dreams are…I'm always running in some kind of a maze or something. I never know where I'm at. I'm just trying to get away. Whoever's after me is always after the baby and I've got to get away from them…but I never can."

Daryl rubbed her a little with the hand that was trapped under her. He could barely move it, but he hoped there was some comfort to be found in his swiping it back and forth.

"Listen, Carol," Daryl said. "Ain't nothin' gonna get'cha OK? I promise ya that. Ya just sleepin' in the cell, that's it. If anything even thought a' comin' in here it'd have ta go through me first an' I ain't what I was right now, but hell, I'd give ya fuckin' time ta get outta here one damn way or another."

"Don't say that!" Carol said.

Daryl chuckled.

"I'm just sayin' that ya can sleep OK. Ya safe as ya can be right now. I promise that ain't nothin' hurtin' ya an' I ain't lettin' no one touch my kid, OK?" Daryl said.

"I'm sorry," Carol said. "It's nothing against you, I promise. I don't mean for them to happen."

"Ya think I would think ya wanna wake up like that? I know ya can't control 'em," Daryl said. "I don't want'cha ta be sorry, I just wanta figure out what I can do ta keep 'em from happenin'."

"I can't promise they won't happen," Carol said, "but I'm happy you're here if they do."

Daryl hugged her to him a bit.

"I ain't goin' nowhere, woman, that's for damn sure," Daryl said. "Try ta sleep. I'll wake ya up if it comes back."

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Carol sat mending clothes at the table in the dining area. Ned was sitting near her, leaning against one of the walls and working on a piece of wood.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"I am carving," Ned said. "What'd you think I was doing?"

Carol giggled at the old man. He could be a smart ass, but there was no harm in what he said.

"What are you carving?" She asked.

Ned smiled.

"If I'm doing it right," he responded, "then it'll be a peg leg for Hershel. Can't say as I've ever carved one before."

"Did you do all that woodwork that was at your house?" Carol asked.

"Sure did," Ned responded. "Guess it's always been a hobby of mine. Got that Korean boy to pick me up some nice pieces of wood when they went out loafing the other day. Got something in the works for you too, young lady."

Carol looked up from her mending.

"For me?" She asked. "I'm not up for losing any limbs am I?"

Ned chuckled.

"Not that I know of," he responded. "And it's for you, and I reckon it's for that little one too. Not gonna say anymore, though. You women are all the same, ruining all your surprises."

Carol smiled.

"Fine, I'm not going to ask any more questions," she said. "I hope you get Hershel's gift right, though. He'll like that."

"Might make ya a dream catcher while I'm feeling crafty," Ned said. "Mind telling an old man why you're waking us all up in the middle of the night?"

Carol sighed. She put the clothing down that she was toying with on the table and stuck her needle in it so that she wouldn't lose it. She shifted around in the uncomfortable wooden chair she was sitting in.

"I don't want to say, exactly…and I'm not sure what to say exactly," she said. "The nightmares just come…It's just my past."

"Ghosts, huh?" Ned asked, not looking up from his carving.

"Not ghosts like bedsheets and boo," Carol said.

Ned chuckled at her.

"Lots and lotsa ghosts out there, Carol. We've all been afraid of some of them, but I hardly met a one who was scared of the bedsheets and boo variety, as ya say," Ned said.

Carol nodded her head. She watched the old man as he continued to work on the leg he was trying to carve. She supposed there were a lot of ghosts out there, much like he'd said. Everyone in the prison had them. She knew she wasn't the only one. It seemed like some of them never came out to play, but they were still there.

Carol picked up the mending again and went back to work.

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"So you're back to reading that?" Alice asked, walking into the cell and finding Daryl reading from the pregnancy book.

"Ain't never quit," he said. "Almost finished with it, but I keep it marked so I can move along with Carol too."

"Oh, goody," Alice said. "Looks like you're almost to the fun part of the book."

Daryl lifted up the back part of the book and looked at how much distance there was between where he was and the end.

"I reckon," he said.

Alice sat down on the edge of the bed and Daryl moved enough to give her room near his legs.

"I guess it's time for me to start talking to Carol about whether or not she wants an overview on breathing techniques," Alice said. "Not my forte but I'll do what I can."

Daryl looked at her. Her hair was starting to grow out some now and it was almost humorous how out of control it was.

"She gon' forget how ta breathe?" He asked, snickering.

Alice made a face.

"She might," she said. She chuckled. "No…shit's for pain management. Whole damn idea is that if you can get women breathing a certain way they'll forget what the fuck is going on with the rest of their body."

Now it was Daryl's turn to chuckle.

"Ya say that like ya think it's a crock a' shit," Daryl said.

Alice reached over and took his book from him. She flipped through the pages and offered it back to him, hovering her finger over one of the pictures.

"Unless the air your breathing in is laced with fucking cocaine or some shit like that, I don't think that any damn way you breathe is going to make something like that feel better," Alice said.

"That's fuckin' nasty!" Daryl said, looking at the picture and wrinkling his face. Alice laughed and smacked him on the arm.

"Don't say that shit! It's the beautiful miracle of birth. That's what you get to see live and in person in a couple of weeks," Alice said.

Daryl flipped the pages back.

"Looks like a hell of a lotta fun," he said.

"Well, for you and me it won't be so bad," Alice said. "I suppose we'll be troopers and power the fuck right on through that shit. Don't be surprised, though, if Carol's got some choice words or tells you to go to hell or that you're never fuckin' touchin' her again and all that good shit."

"Why?" Daryl asked. "Am I gonna do somethin' else I don't fuckin' know about yet for all ya damn bitches ta jump my ass?"

Alice chuckled.

"Look the fuck back at that picture and tell me you wouldn't tell the asshole that put that shit inside of you to go to hell," Alice said. "If women could remember clearly the pain of childbirth, I have a theory there'd be a lot more people in the dugouts for my team, that's for damn sure. Best thing to remember is she doesn't mean a damn thing she says. When my sister had her kid, she told us right in the middle of the delivery that she was going home. She didn't want to do it and she was simply going to go home. We could all go fuck ourselves."

Daryl laughed.

"Did she try ta go home?" He asked. He had heard Alice talk about her sister a good deal. He wasn't sure what the woman looked like or anything about her really. He assumed, like most people they talked about, that she was likely dead. He thought maybe she looked like Alice…maybe her hair was a little longer, something like that.

Alice shook her head.

"No, she wasn't going anywhere," Alice said. "That's the thing. They don't mean a damn thing they're saying. It's just like they're brains get all fucked up and they're like I'm done with this shit and I'm done with every fucking person I can see because in some way every one of your stupid asses is responsible for this shit."

"Oh boy," Daryl said. "I can't fuckin' wait."

"Won't be so bad," Alice said. "And when it's done, it's done…and you'll have a kid. You'll really like that shit. You never had a damn thing that would distract a woman so fast as her kid. It's like waving a yarn ball in front of a cat. They'll damn near kill themselves to get their hands on it. You just watch and mark my words today. She'll probably nearly tear my head off as soon as the kid comes out trying to get ahold of it."

"So you here to prod at me or what?" Daryl asked. Alice had avoided him and sent Hershel to check him over while he and Carol weren't talking, but now she was back to making her appearances.

Alice shook her head.

"No, didn't come for any of that. Unless you've got some problem?" Alice said.

"Nah, I ain't got no problems ya don't already know about," Daryl said.

"How are you feeling? How's the pain?" Alice asked. Daryl almost laughed at the look that crossed her face. Alice had an odd sort of mask quality to her that he'd never seen on anyone before. The moment that she started putting on her doctor costume at all, her face changed. It wasn't that she looked dead or anything creepy, but she looked like she had no real emotion at all. Nothing. The funniest thing about it, though, was watching how quickly she could put it on and pull it off. He figured she'd be one hell of a poker player if she had even a half a clue that she was doing that shit.

"Ain't as bad as it was," Daryl said. "Feelin' better, actually."

"How about the muscle tone? How's the up and down thing going?" Alice asked.

Daryl dropped his book over the side of the bed and turned on his back, raising up a little to show her that his range of movement was improving.

"I can go 'bout that far 'fore it starts ta catch," he said.

Alice ran her hand around his back and he could feel her working her fingertips gently into the area around where he'd been shot.

"Go down," she said.

Daryl lowered himself, feeling her moving with him.

"Come on back up," she said.

Daryl sat up about as far as he could before he felt the catch. Alice frowned a little.

"What the hell's wrong? I don't like that look?" Daryl said.

Alice shook her head.

"Nothing's wrong, Daryl, I just hoped that everything might be healing a little quicker than it is. Don't get me wrong…it's healing and it's healing faster than it would be for someone that wasn't in your condition before…but the muscles take a while to knit back together and shit," Alice said with a sigh. "Just keep working at it, that's all you can do. The more you use it, the better it gets. Got Tyreese working on a surprise for you and for Carol."

"What kinda surprise?" Daryl asked, lowering himself back down.

Alice's mask was gone and now she rolled her eyes at him, looking at him like he was stupid.

"Now what kinda fucking surprise would it be if I told you what the hell it was?" Alice asked. "Damn, just like a fucking kid."

Daryl rolled his eyes back at her.

"Fine, keep ya fuckin' surprise. What the fuck ya come in here botherin' me for anyway?" He said.

"Oh," Alice said. "I almost forgot. I came in here to tell you good job…I came down this morning or last night or whatever time it was…to check about the nightmare. You got it under control, though…so good job on that."

"Fuck you!" Daryl said, swinging his hand at her. He barely made contact with her arm as she backed up. She laughed.

"I'm serious, Daryl. Those nightmares have been pretty serious. I had to give her something twice for them and damn near had to suffocate her the rest of the time. You got it under control pretty damn quick," Alice said.

"Yeah well…" Daryl said. "I know what the fuck it feels like ta have nightmares."

Alice nodded her head.

"We all do," she said. "Doesn't mean we have a fucking clue what the hell to do for each other. You do well, though, when you're trying. Just letting you know so you keep fucking trying…I'm in your corner, you know…whether you believe it or not."

Alice got up from the bed.

"Slow the fuck down," Daryl snapped, sitting up a little.

Alice turned around and looked at him, raising her eyebrow.

"Ya say ya in my fuckin' corner?" He asked with a smirk. "Ya tell me I'm a fucker an' a damn asshole every damn day…don't come in here with ya shit."

Alice smiled at him.

"Gotta get in your fucking hard head one damn way or another," Alice said. "You're a royal fuck up, but Carol loves the shit out of ya, and I'm just one big puddle of good over some good fucking romance. You best hold onto your nuts, though, because I'm going to keep schooling your ass. Then maybe when I'm a fucking Scooby snack you'll remember some of this shit and I won't have to spend the rest of eternity haunting your ass unless it fucking entertains me."

"Get the fuck outta here!" Daryl said, chuckling at her. "God I hate you."

Alice stepped out the door and a second later she stuck her head back in the curtain.

"Get some rest fucker," she said. "You've got less than forty eight hours and we start physical therapy…or as I like to call it, boot camp. Then you're really going to hate my ass."

She pulled her head back out of the curtain then and Daryl heard her walking through the halls humming something that bounced around and echoed off the prison walls.

Therapy, though, was something he'd do gladly, especially if it got him his strength back and got him back to what he was. He was tired of feeling like some old ass man and he wasn't going to be some kind of invalid when his kid was her neither. Spring would be bringing all kinds of shit, and he knew damn good and well it would also bring the possibility of more crazy ass fuckers roaming around when they didn't think their dicks would freeze off. He was going to be just as fucking ready for them if they came as anyone else at the prison.

Daryl leaned over and picked up his book off the floor. He opened it back up and flipped through to find the page that he was on before. He'd be done with it soon enough, and it was a good damn thing because the page he kept marked to show where Carol was at was catching up with him.


	76. Chapter 76

**AN: OK, so here's a little more.**

**We're nearing the end of this fic. I'll have more to say on that in the final chapters and in my endnotes. Of course, though, as I'm nearing the end I'm always thinking about other things I'd like to play with and other stories that I'd like to write. That's just the way I'm wired. I know that our fourth season will be starting soon, but I don't intend to stop writing because of it. You might not see me around on Sunday nights at all, but I'll keep entertaining myself with the free time I have, especially if I write anything that anyone is interested in reading. **

**So I've been thinking, as I've been planning ahead, and I want your opinion. People have, in general, liked Alice as a supporting character in the story. My question to you, then, is if you'd be interested in maybe seeing her appear in future fics that I'm putting together as a supporting character again…although clearly a little different depending on the style/tone/plot of the fic. **

**As for this chapter, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! It won't be too long now!**

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Daryl was outside, shivering against the wall and smoking a cigarette. He could have been smoking inside, no one would have really protested the smoke from one single cigarette, but he was outside more for the feeling of not being bound by the walls than anything else. He was wishing time away, but he was ready for spring to come mostly because it would hopefully see him back to his old self and ready to get outside the fences and hunt.

He was glancing out over the fields that surrounded the prison when Carol surprised him, running her icy fingers along the bare skin of his neck and creating even more of a contrast with the cold than was already there. He jumped a little. He hadn't been paying any attention at all because if he had, he would have known that she was there. She wasn't exactly the most graceful and silent of the group members, and she really didn't try to be.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Did I startle you?"

Daryl took the final drag off of his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, stubbing it out with his shoe before turning to look at her and consider answering her question.

"S'fine," he said. "I was just thinkin'…nothin' much excitin'."

What were you thinking about?" Carol asked, pulling the black wool cape she was wearing tighter around her shoulders. Daryl smiled at her a little. He didn't know what she'd been doing, but she'd obviously been outside a few minutes because her lips had a slight tinge of purple to them that was a clear indication that she hadn't been inside the warmth of their concrete home.

He leaned in and kissed her gently, barely pressing his lips over hers. She smiled at him when he pulled away and blushed a little.

"What was that for?" She asked.

"Damn, woman? Can't kiss my wife without a reason?" Daryl asked. She didn't respond, but she did smile at him.

"What were you thinking?" She repeated.

Daryl shrugged a little.

"I was thinking about spring. Just wishing it would hurry up an' get here, ya know? I'm sick a' this damn cold," Daryl said.

Carol sighed.

"Cabin fever?" She asked.

Daryl nodded, but didn't respond. That's what everyone was calling it. It was just cabin fever and apparently he wasn't the only one who was suffering from it. Even Michonne seemed to be going a little crazy from it because she would bundle up like some kind of polar bear or something and insist on circling around and around the perimeter, even though it was so cold that they hadn't seen more than two Walkers in the past two weeks.

"It'll be here soon enough," Carol said, leaning close to him and wrapping her arm around his. "Alice is looking for us."

Daryl didn't have to ask what the woman wanted. He'd been doing physical therapy with her for a bit. Mostly it was all kinds of stretches and some weight things, but she'd been promising the two of them some kind of surprise for almost two weeks and hadn't delivered a thing. At breakfast, though, she'd sworn that everything was ready and today was the day. He supposed she was looking for them so that they could finally see what the hell she'd been working on.

Daryl wrapped his arm around Carol, leading her back toward the prison door. With just at two months to go if their calculations were correct, Daryl wasn't sure how she was going to get much bigger. Alice assured him she would, though, so he was waiting to see it happen. Already the times when Carol could sit and stand gracefully on her own were part of some distant memory. She also moved a lot slower than she had before and Daryl could only pray that everything stayed as boring and calm as it was around the prison until after the baby came. He couldn't imagine her trying to escape right now. He'd suffer through cabin fever if that's what it took not to have any excitement in that department.

As they made their way inside and started to shed off some of the layers that they had put on, Melodye found them.

"Took you long enough," she teased Carol, walking up.

Carol tossed the cape she'd been wearing over the back of one of the chairs that they'd pulled close to the door of the prison to serve as a makeshift coat rack for all the ins and outs of people. She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at Melodye.

"It's freezing out there and I still feel like I just ran a marathon trying to find Daryl," Carol said. She turned and smiled at Daryl and he put his hand on her shoulder.

Melodye looked excited and it didn't take more than minute for her to turn and start walking, Carol following after her.

"Hershel's already down there," Melodye said. "And Tyreese and Michonne too."

"Surprise for them too?" Daryl asked.

"Well, technically it's for everyone," Melodye said. "They were down there helping set everything up, though, so it's no real surprise to them."

Daryl followed along behind the two women fairly quietly through some of the darkened corridors in sections of the prison that they didn't frequent with much regularity. As time slowly progressed they'd cleared out more and more of the prison. There was little to do with the cold outside, so most people took out whatever energy they had stored up on taking down Walkers in parts of the prison that had gone somewhat untouched since their arrival.

Finally they made their way through some double doors that Melodye heaved open into a room that was apparently wired with generators since electric lights were glowing in it. The electricity, whenever they used it, was almost strange to see since they so seldom employed it.

It was a gym, and a pretty nice one from what Daryl could tell. Tyreese and Michonne were involved in what looked like some sort of pissing match with some weights while Wyatt lumbered over them, apparently with the intention of spotting both of them at the same time. Hershel sat on a bench engaged in a conversation with Alice. The woman turned, though, when the double doors squeaked open.

"Welcome to our luxury gym and spa!" She announced, grinning from ear to ear.

"This your fuckin' surprise?" Daryl asked. Alice walked over to them.

"No one ever taught you to appreciate shit, did they?" Alice asked. "It's a nice damn surprise, Daryl. We're going to whip your ass into shape."

Daryl looked around. He'd never really spent much time in gyms. He had been an outdoorsy kind of person his whole life. All the workout he ever needed was provided by Mother Nature herself, not some machine loaded down with wood and weights. Still, he supposed that if he knew what half the equipment was, he would be impressed.

"Come on, Carol, I'll show you what we got for you. It's pretty sweet ass but we've all agreed to let you do the honors," Alice said, hooking her arm in Carol's and pulling her across the room. Daryl followed after them, curious to see what it was that Alice had to show them.

She led them to a large tub, one that looked like it was big enough for three or four people. Alice grinned and presented it as though she were on some kind of game show.

"We have here, for your relaxational enjoyment, the Sonic 500 super soaker tub," Alice said. Carol looked at it.

"It's a tub?" Carol asked. Daryl chuckled because she looked about as lost as he did.

"Well," Alice said, "not just any tub. Damn thing's big enough that I'm trying to organize a nice little rendezvous with a handful of people. I keep trying to tell Mel there's enough room in there that we could invite that little Cynthia down for some water therapy." She winked at Daryl and he looked away from her.

"It works?" Carol asked.

"It better fucking work," Alice said, frowning. "I've had Tyreese working on this shit for ages. I figured you might like to soak in it some. Good for relaxing until the bean comes."

Daryl saw a flash of excitement spread over Carol's face now. She ran her finger around the edge of the tub.

"I don't know how I'd get in there," she said, shaking her head.

"Yeah…" Alice said. "Thing is that's going to be the bitch of it. You're not wrestling your way in on your own, but I could help you out and the samurai said she's got no problem throwing you over the edge if you need it. She's getting all muscly to help out anyway."

Daryl chuckled.

"So let me get this shit straight. You're fuckin' excited 'cause your surprise for my ass is new ways ta torture me an' she gets a fuckin' bathtub big enough to sail a boat in?" Daryl asked.

Alice smiled at him.

"My surprise for you is more fun for me, that's for damn sure. Hershel's already been working out down here with his new leg. You better not be a little bitch or he's going to run circles around your ass soon," Alice said. "Besides, I didn't say you couldn't use the tub too."

Carol turned around and grinned at Daryl. She pressed herself against him, her palms against his chest and smiled at him. She pursed her lips a little.

"Big tub like that could be nice," she said. "You could soak your sore muscles after Alice gives you the run around. I could relax."

"We can save electricity and turn the rest of the fuckin' lights out," Alice said. "I don't care what the fuck goes on down here, just don't use the tub without letting me or someone else know you're down here. Same rules here as in the shower. If you think you might break your damn neck doing it, don't fucking do it. I'm serious…I will not put your ass back together."

"When can I try it out?" Carol asked.

Alice shrugged.

"I don't give a shit," she said. "It's clean and ready to go, though I'd let the water run a minute or two before you close the drain because it's still coming out pretty damn rusty at first. I'm about to torture Daryl now so you can soak and have a show if you want."

Carol smiled.

"Hell no!" Daryl said. "This room is full of fuckin' people! Ya ain't takin' no bath with Tyreese, Wyatt, and Hershel in here. Enough damn people 'round here got permission ta see ya naked as it is, I don't want everythin' my wife's got on display all the damn time."

Carol giggled at him.

"Daryl, the last thing most of the people in this room want to see these days is me naked," she said. "But I tell you what, you do really well at your therapy session and I'll get Mel to come and get me when you're done. I'll come and join you then."

Daryl felt himself start to go hard a little at the thought and tried to get the lower regions of his body under control. He had to admit that the tub seemed like a good idea simply because he could imagine it would be a lot easier to move around in than their linked together beds…and they'd become pretty damn creative to accommodate both Carol's growing size and Daryl's injuries.

"Fine," he grumbled, pretending to be less enthusiastic than he was about the plan. "I'll do my shit an' then ya can come down here."

Carol nodded a little.

"I'll go and check on what we're having for dinner, then," Carol said. She leaned in and Daryl dipped his head down to meet her so that she could give him a quick kiss. Alice was watching them, so he didn't let it dissolve into the kiss that he was really hoping for, but he thought it might hold him over until later.

When they broke apart, Carol turned and started back out the gym through the doors that they passed through earlier. Daryl watched her go and then turned back to Alice.

"Alright, what the hell ya got in mind?" He asked.

Alice smiled at him.

"Your ass is mine…" she said. "I don't even know how half this shit works, but Tyreese has some pretty decent ideas about it and we're about to find out."

Daryl nodded a little.

"That's fine," he said. "Just make sure ya doin' ya fuckin' homework an' trainin' too."

"Why?" She asked.

"'Cause just as soon as I'm better I'ma kick ya ass if ya can't outrun me," Daryl said.

Alice laughed.

"Got yourself a deal, asshole," Alice said.

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Carol was more excited about the tub than she let on. When Melodye had come to get her, she'd abandoned dinner to whoever wanted to fix it and serve it. For the moment she could care less if she even ate. She'd been dreaming all day about getting to soak in warm water.

Melodye followed her to the cell while she got clean clothes for her and Daryl and collected together some of the things out of their ration box so that they could actually bathe while they were down there. Melodye took the stuff from her and carried it as they walked.

"I think that Daryl's a little more tired than he thought he'd be," Melodye said.

Carol snickered.

"I saw Hershel come through earlier and he looked pretty beat, so I guess that Alice is really giving them the run down," Carol said.

"Al's never been one to play about that stuff. She broke her ankle once and she was more interested in getting to her physical therapy than her therapist was," Melodye said.

"I'm glad that my condition doesn't require her to bully me for a while," Carol said.

When they got down to the gym, Melodye put the stuff down on the edge of the tub. Alice was already filling it and Daryl was sitting on a bench with his shirt off, starting to come out of his boots. Carol smiled at him before she even made her way over there to start undressing. Taking his clothes off in front of people was always something that made him uncomfortable. In fact, it made him more uncomfortable than it even made her, and that was saying a lot, but Alice had broken him of being that way around either her or Melodye. Carol assumed it was their general lack of respect for other people's privacy while nude that did it.

"How'd your workout go?" Carol asked.

Daryl looked up at her and she could tell he was tired. It was painted on his face. He smiled though.

"Don't I look like I'm ready ta go?" He asked.

"You look good to me," Carol said. She walked behind him and squeezed at his shoulders a minute. Though he felt like he'd fallen to pieces since the accident, she thought he was still just as tight and muscular as he'd ever been. Most of what he'd lost, really, had been abdominal muscles, and it wasn't so much that they were lost as they were damaged and needed to heal. Daryl didn't seem to realize that as much as everyone else did, though.

"Come on, woman," Daryl said, getting to his feet once he was out of his shoes. "Let's get'cha in that tub."

Carol smiled and went over to the tub where the two women were waiting.

"Here's how this is going to work," Alice said. She stood up and peeled off her pants.

"Fuck ya doin'?!" Daryl called.

"Calm down, asshole. I'm still wearing panties. Enjoy the free view," Alice said. She stepped over into the tub. "Now Daryl's going to get in here with me," she started.

Carol laughed.

"This already sounds really bad…I'm sorry, but I hope no one is listening," She said.

Alice laughed at her.

"We do what we gotta fucking do. Now, Daryl is going to get in here and we're going to help you in. Mel's staying out to help you over the side that way. You two do whatever the fuck you're going to do down here and we'll be back to check in about forty minutes," Alice said.

Daryl sighed and shucked his pants, leaving his underwear off.

"I'll throw 'em over the side when I'm done," Daryl said when Alice looked at him. Once they were both in the tub, Carol threw her own modesty to the wind and let Melodye help her wrestle out of her clothes. Together they helped her get over the side of the tub and eased down in the water before Alice hopped over the side and yanked her pants on over her wet legs.

The two women bid their farewells for the moment and disappeared outside the room, leaving Carol alone with Daryl. She had to admit that she already felt better and relaxed, just sitting in the water which came up almost over her shoulders.

Daryl took off his underwear, threw them over the side, and sat down, sliding the small box of stuff that she'd brought down closer to them.

"Come on over here," Daryl said, reaching his arm toward Carol. She eased around the tub and slid in front of him, sitting between his legs and leaning back against his chest. Daryl threaded his arms under hers and rubbed her belly, kissing the side of her head. She snuggled into him.

"Did you have plans, Mr. Dixon, for this bath?" She asked, snickering at him.

Daryl chuckled.

"Ya know what?" He said. "I did, right up until that bitch run my ass inta the ground. Now I'm feelin' like this is pretty damn nice just as it is. Why? Ya gon' be sore 'bout it if we ain't doin' nothin' but soakin' in our damn soakin' tub?"

Carol chuckles and rooted back against him a little more, rubbing her back on him.

"Ya keep doin' that an' I'm liable ta change my damn mind an' tell my fuckin' muscles ta get the hell over it," Daryl growled.

"I'm sorry," Carol said. "And no, I won't be upset. It feels pretty good to me, too."

"Mmmm…" Daryl hummed, his fingers gliding over Carol's legs in the water. "We gon' have ta sneak down here once the baby's here an' ya feelin' froggy. Might be some a' them karma sutcher things we can do in a tub."

Carol laughed. The book was tucked away in the nighstand drawer where she also kept her rings for later. Neither of them had looked at it in some time, but they'd been pretty creative themselves, even without the ancient art of love making.

"You might not want to sneak down here," Carol said. "I don't think you realize it but you're body's going to go back to what it was before the accident. There's no telling if mine is ever going to be the same again."

Daryl kissed the back of her neck and then rested his chin on her. She could tell just by the rhythm of his breathing that the tub was as relaxing for him as it was for her at the moment.

"What'cha mean?" He asked.

"Well," Carol said, "you went and got yourself saddled with an old woman…and then this happened. She rubbed her hand over the growing swell that would eventually give way to be their son or daughter. I'm not going to just snap back from this, you know? I might never look like I did. You could end up being pretty surprised."

Daryl wrapped his arms tight around her.

"Ya ain't no damn old woman," he said. "Fuck…look at me…some skinny ass chick was kickin' my ass all around this damn gym today. I reckon ya the one that got'cha self an old man. Besides…what's wrong with ya? Ya gon' look damn fine ta me."

"Oh? You've got a thing for baby weight and stretch marks?" Carol teased.

"If they on you I do," Daryl said. "I hope ya keep some a' ya damn weight woman, ya too damn skinny, an' what the fuck's a stretch mark anyway?"

"I'm too skinny, Daryl?" Carol asked. "I can't get in a tub without the assistance of three people and I'm too skinny? I barely fit on one side of the bed."

"Mmmm…s'all baby. Ya still bony as fuck every damn where else. Kid's suckin' most the damn food right outta ya. 'Sides, I like a lil' meat on the bones. Ain't no damn dog," Daryl responded.

Carol took his hand and traced it over one of the stretch marks on her side.

"And that's a stretchmark," she said. Daryl craned around her, pushing her forward a little and rubbed his finger over the spot again.

"Looks like a scar ta me," he said.

Carol shrugged and leaned back again once he'd settled against the back of the tub once more.

"I guess they're kind of like scars," Carol said.

Daryl chuckled, his breath blowing in her ear.

"Then what the fuck's the problem?" He asked. "Look at us, Carol. Between the two of us we look like fuckin' patchwork quilts. Ain't mattered a damn bit before, why the fuck's it gonna start matterin' now? 'Sides, them are better scars than the ones we already got. Kid put them there an' they weren't from someone bein' a damn asshole."

"You know what, Daryl?" Carol asked.

"No," he responded, "but I bet'cha gonna tell me."

"If you really mean that, then I'm a lucky woman," Carol said.

"Ya might oughta hold onto that thought," Daryl said. "That way ya can pull it out an' dust it off when I'm bein' an asshole."

"I remember it," Carol said. "And when you're trying, you're really good at not being an asshole, Daryl."

"'Cause ya scared my ass that I was gonna lose ya if I didn't get my act together," Daryl said. "That shit'll make anyone shape up."

"You don't ever just want to lose me? Get me out of your hair?" Carol asked.

"Oh hell no," Daryl said. "I ain't fallin' for that shit. Next damn thing I know I'ma have me a three page essay ta read on that."

"An essay?" Carol asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't worry about it," Daryl said. "I ain't lookin' ta get rid a' ya ass, an' ya ain't gettin' rid a' me so that's all the fuck that matters."

"You're so romantic," Carol said, snickering.

"I'm damn near a poet," Daryl said. "Why don't'cha lean up an' get us that soap there so we can be clean when them bitches come back down here peepin' at us?"

Carol leaned over, dragging the little box closer and burrowing around blindly to find the soap. There was a washcloth in there too and she snagged it as her fingertips brushed against it.

"I'll wash you if you'll was me," Carol offered, shifting around in the water to face Daryl. He grinned at her.

"Sounds like a good damn deal right there!" He said.

Carol lathered up the washrag and started washing him. She didn't know what time it was exactly, but she thought that they might squeeze in a little time to play in the tub after all.


	77. Chapter 77

**AN: OK, here we go…another chapter in the winding down/wrapping up stages of the story. We've probably got, unless my planning gets off somehow, about two more chapters to go! **

**I'll have, after that, my thanks to many of you for your support and also some information on what you can expect from me next if you're interested. I can't, after all, go without having a million irons in the fire…I'd probably go crazy! But more on all that to come.**

**For now, here's the chapter. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! **

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As time crept closer and closer to their blessed event, Carol was caught in a whirlwind of emotion about it. It seemed like everyone in the prison teetered between excitement over the arrival of the new baby and the boring hum of a life where they were finally able to catch their breaths to some degree.

At times people hustled about and asked her constantly how she felt, how the baby was doing, how much longer it would be, and there was an air of expectation even though they still had three weeks or so probably to wait. Other times it was almost as if everyone forgot that the baby was coming and had settled into the fact that she would simply be pregnant forever, and she sympathized with them because a piece of her was also beginning to feel like she had been pregnant forever and like it would never actually end.

She tried to explain the sensation to Daryl a few times, but she could tell that he didn't really understand and she couldn't blame him. It was difficult to explain that you felt like you were waiting on something that was so imminent it frightened you but at the same time it was something that you were beginning to doubt would ever actually come. If she couldn't fully understand it herself, she couldn't really expect him to wrap his mind around it entirely.

So for the most part, people simply did what they could do and went on about their lives and Carol tried to remind herself that though the baby that made her fluctuate between exalted and miserable was ever at the forefront of her mind it wasn't so for everyone else.

Daryl tried, more than she even expected, to be as supportive as he could. She really couldn't have asked for more. He offered her massages when she complained of her various aches and pains, he let her unload her feelings, even if they never changed, as often as she liked, and he assured her day after day that the baby was coming. He was sure of that and his unfaltering belief was all that kept her from going crazy at times.

One morning, just after breakfast, Michonne was the one to help Carol to her feet, declaring that they were going to start getting things ready for the baby. Carol thanked the woman, hoping that some sort of serious nesting might be just what she needed to get her mind off the fact that she felt like she would explode soon if body insisted on trying to expand any farther.

They had cleared out the cell to the right of Daryl and Carol's cell and Michonne had already employed the assistance of someone to move in the extra crib they'd kept in storage since they'd made some of the final runs. Ned's surprise to them had been a small wooden cradle that he had built for her to keep the baby right by the bed for its first nights and for when it was more convenient to have it closer to them, but for other situations the cell would serve as a nursery for the child. It was a rudimentary nursery, at best, given that the crib was the only piece of baby specific furniture that they had to offer. They'd brought in a chair and there were still the dresser and nightstand in there for Carol to use, but the nursery still wasn't much of a nursery.

"OK," Michonne said, coming into the nursery and dragging several cardboard boxes into the middle of the floor. "Sit, stand, or levitate, whatever makes you comfortable and tell me where you want things. I'll unpack." She flipped open one of the boxes while sitting on the floor next to it and started to take out items they'd gotten on a run.

Carol stood, since at the moment that was the most desirable position that she could find, and watched as Michonne sorted the contents of the boxes into things like clothes, bottles, pacifiers, and bibs. There wasn't a ton of things there, but there were at least a few of nearly everything she could imagine.

Carol looked around the almost bare cell. What was there really to do with the items? The crib was made up and someone had found some mint green sheets for it. Given the circumstances, that was about all the preparation that could be made.

"Where do you want me to put diapers and washcloths and things?" Michonne asked Carol, getting up and holding some of the items in her hands.

Carol suddenly felt like she couldn't even make simple decisions. It didn't really matter, did it? There wasn't a changing table. It wasn't like that would be the appropriate place. If she didn't want to change the baby on her bed or in its crib all that was really available to her was the dresser top. Carol glanced at it and back at Michonne, rubbing her hand over her belly. Finally she shrugged.

"It doesn't matter," she said.

Michonne frowned at her. If anyone was going to look at you like they weren't amused, Michonne was one of the best to do it.

"OK, but where do you want them? You need to know where everything is when you need it," Michonne said. "Otherwise you'll go crazy looking for it, and I know from experience that's no fun when you've also got a fussy newborn."

Carol looked around. She couldn't keep back the chuckle that escaped.

"It doesn't matter," she repeated.

Michonne looked at her again, this time with a little more irritation.

"Really!" Carol said. "Michonne, what does it matter if it's in this drawer or that drawer? You can leave the stuff in the box if you want. My baby is going to live in a prison cell!"

The absurdity hadn't bypassed Carol completely before, but it was a stark reality as she stood in the prison cell and was hit with the visual impact of the then versus the now. Her child, like Judith, wouldn't know the world before the insanity they were starting to take for granted had become commonplace. Her child would grow up thinking that this was _normal_. The dead roamed and tried to eat the living. People were all a bit mad, and some were mad to the point of terrorizing others simply for their own selfish reasons. There was no justice beyond that doled out as it was seen fit by the people that you encountered. The world gone mad would simply be normal to her child, and she was supposed to be making a prison cell feel like a warm and welcoming environment.

Michonne walked over to her, putting the items down on top of the dresser. She wrapped her arms around Carol and pulled her into a somewhat awkward hug.

"That's not the important thing," Michonne said. "What's important is that your baby is going to live and we're all going to give it the best life we can. It won't know that it was once unheard of to have a nursery in a prison, Carol, but what it will know is that it has parents that love it and one strange ass extended family that loves it and takes care of it."

Carol hugged Michonne back, almost ashamed of the tears that were leaking from her eyes. She supposed it was true. At least if her baby was going to live in a world gone mad it had the best kind of support system that it could ask for. Their family wasn't perfect, but it was their family, and it wasn't anything to turn your nose up at.

"I tell you what," Michonne said, pulling away. "Why don't you let me get some of the women together and we'll fix the nursery up for you? As a surprise? We can show you where everything is, but maybe once it's out of boxes and things look a little more ready, you'll feel better about it. How's that sound?"

Carol nodded. She could do this and she knew that everything was going to be fine, but at the moment it just seemed like a lot to process. She excused herself from the cell and Michonne went about what she was doing.

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"Going on the road with two babies isn't ideal for anyone," Rick said to Daryl as they lazily cleaned out one of the final blocks that they'd opened up. The main sweep had been done and they stepped over Walkers that had yet to be taken out and burned as they cleaned out the Walkers that pressed themselves against the locked doors of their cells. This point in the operation had all the stress of swatting flies for the two men, and so they were engaged in something that was bringing much more concern to Rick.

"When ya think it's gonna be a good idea ta move, though?" Daryl asked.

They'd been discussing the fact that the prison, though it was a calm refuge at the moment, wasn't an ideal location for forever. Daryl wasn't sure that there was any utopia out there that they were going to find, and he worried about the road between the here and the there, but the fact remained that they simply couldn't stay forever at the prison. Spring would come, the world would thaw again, and with the life around them blooming, so would come the threats of more people moving around, and more people meant more chances of encounters with individuals like the madmen that had already terrorized them.

"When it warms up," Rick said, shrugging a little as he stabbed a Walker through the bars. "I won't say that we need to move as soon as it starts to warm up, but we don't want to wait too long. We need enough time to find a place and settle in before the winter comes around again. Getting trapped without shelter in the cold is one of the last things we want."

Daryl knew that Rick understood his concerns about moving on. Rick had Judith and Carl to think about. He'd also settled into a relationship with Karen that everyone knew about, but they didn't really speak about often. The woman had calmed with the relationship, though, and she was good for Rick and good for his children.

Rick was no more anxious than Daryl to see their families threatened by the possible hazards of the road, but unfortunately that was part of the life that they were leading now. There were always threats and always hazards.

"We're good for a while," Daryl said, referring to their stock of supplies. The group was larger than it had been and they burned through supplies at a quick rate, but it wasn't alarming. They had tossed back and forth the possibilities of staying and trying to grow food so that they had fresh vegetables to accompany the meat supply that the land and the animals that Ned and crew had brought could supply them, but they'd also been arguing among themselves that their supply wasn't steady and establishing the vegetables would take longer than really any of them were considering staying in the prison.

Rick nodded at Daryl's words.

"We won't leave immediately," he said, "but we won't make it another year here. Realistically the area's been picked clean and we've done a good deal of the picking. We need to move…establish a place to pass at least a year. Then we can decide where we go from there. We can decide what the ultimate destination is. If we waste too much time here, though, we'll be trapped without enough supplies and we'll have to hit the road without having the luxury of preparation."

Daryl nodded. He wasn't arguing. He understood that they were moving, and deep down he knew that it was best. The prison, although safe for the moment, wasn't a sound structure. Part of the building was compromised and it would cost them more time and labor to even attempt to fix it than it was really worth if they could find a place that wasn't damaged and offered similar protection. He knew those places were out there.

"You're right," Daryl said. He sighed a little. "We gotta move on…just hope we can find another prison or somethin' like it."

Rick clapped him on the shoulder.

"We'll find something even better," Rick said. "There's no need for you to worry about it right now, though. You've got bigger things on your plate for the moment."

Rick smiled at Daryl and Daryl nodded. They were counting down now. They had three weeks, in theory, to go, but he still felt like he was already on all systems go. He kept worrying that the baby was coming and it was coming now. Ahead of time, unexpected, and he wanted to be ready. He'd follow around behind Carol twenty four hours a day if she didn't tell him to stop breathing down her neck fairly often when he was across the room.

She was edgy, but he was excusing it. Every bit of it. One look at her told him that she had a right to be a little testy. He couldn't imagine having that much room in his body taken over by something else, even if it was his kid. He knew he'd do it gladly if he were in that position, but he figured he'd be prone to moodiness as well.

"We got us three weeks to go," Daryl said. "That's what Alice keeps sayin'."

"Exciting times," Rick said.

Rick's voice didn't fully match his words, and Daryl understood why. Rick was a good friend, and he'd been a good supporter through all of this, but the fact remained that Rick had lost his wife tragically when his daughter, whose paternity they all silently questioned, was born. He tried to be excited for Daryl, but the situation seemed to keep reminding him about Lori.

Daryl nodded. He knew that Rick's inability to be excited as he was didn't reflect on him or his child.

"I'm gettin' pretty damn excited," Daryl said. Rick smiled at him again.

"I know you are," Rick said. "So don't worry about the move, not right now. Nothing should take this away from you. It's your first child, after all, and that's a big deal."

"Can I ask ya somethin'?" Daryl said.

"Sure," Rick responded.

"Before Carl was born," Daryl said, "were just about as damn nervous as ya were excited?"

Rick grinned this time. He chuckled a little.

"I was almost like a jumping bean," Rick said. "It got so bad that every time the phone rang I nearly hit the ceiling."

Daryl chuckled and shook his head.

"That's a damn good thing ta hear 'cause if Carol so much as fuckin' sneezes in the middle a' the night I feel like I'm 'bout ta jump clear out my skin," Daryl admitted.

"Sounds about right," Rick said. "It's really going to surprise you, then, when it happens. I felt like I spent so much time preparing for it and playing it out in my mind…and then when it happened it didn't feel like most of it was real because it didn't look anything like what I'd imagined."

Daryl mounted the stairs to the second level to put down the caged up Walkers waiting patiently on them. Rick followed behind him.

"I'm just ready for it ta be over, ya know? Carol she's damn near miserable an' I don't blame her, but I'm ready for the kid ta be here. I don't wanta rush it, though," Daryl said.

"It'll happen soon enough," Rick said. "Don't you worry about that. Look at this way, at least you don't have to go far to get Carol's doctor. We had to drive to the hospital when Lori was in labor and that was the longest drive I'd ever been on to be just across town."

Daryl chuckled.

"Nah, I reckon I just gotta yell an' Alice'll come runnin'. She don't stay more than ten feet away from Carol anyway these days," Daryl said.

Alice had a birthing plan, as she called it, in place. Daryl didn't know what was involved and who all was involved, but they knew their parts. His was simple enough. He just had to wait until they told him it was time and then basically he was supposed to offer his body over as a sacrifice to Carol to do with what she pleased until their kid was there. He figured his was the easiest of the roles. He didn't have too much to remember.

Daryl and Rick finished off the cell block, leaving the bodies behind for Tyreese and Brian who were making short work of moving the Walkers outside to be burned. Now that they were discussing moving, and doing so in all seriousness, Daryl wasn't sure why they were bothering with any of the areas left in the prison, but he assumed it was like many of the activities that they engaged in. They had learned to stay busy…and whether or not what they did was necessary or even all that helpful, the staying busy kept everyone from going crazy or from dwelling too much on the things that they couldn't change. And Daryl, for one, could use all the help staying busy that he could find for the moment.

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When Daryl came back to his cell from taking a quick shower to wash off the Walker spray that he'd been hit with while working with Rick, he wasn't quite prepared for what he found and he wasn't entirely sure what was taking place.

He stepped into the cell to find Carol holding onto the bars and leaning back, almost sitting in Michonne's lap, who was leaning behind her. Alice was standing inches behind Michonne like she was spotting the pair.

"The fuck ya doin'?" Daryl asked. He didn't get too worked up these days about nearly anything that happened in his space. He assumed that nearly everything had to do with the baby and he left that to the women who seemed to know what they were doing.

Alice chuckled at him.

"We're practicing birthing positions," Alice said. "You're the cell bars for the moment."

Daryl examined them again as Michonne straightened up and Carol joined her, rubbing at her belly.

"What'cha practicin'?" Daryl asked. "Ain't'cha she just gonna lay down when the baby's comin'?"

Daryl had seen a few movies where women had babies, but admittedly that had been his only experience with the phenomenon. It seemed simple enough though. She would start yelling about it, she'd get in the bed, there'd be some excitement and some pushing…dotted with profanity and the various promises that Alice had suggested Carol might make to him involving his manhood…and sometime later there would be a baby. It didn't seem all that complicated.

"Do you know who decided to put women in bed when they had babies?" Alice asked. Daryl shook his head. He simply assumed it was a natural progression. "A fuckin' man," Alice said.

Daryl ignored the fact that Michonne and Carol both laughed, somewhat hugging each other near the cell bars where they were standing.

"You're an outdoorsy man," Alice said. "Ever seen any animals born?"

Daryl thought about it. The most he'd ever really seen was when a friend's hunting dog had a litter of puppies. He hadn't stayed for his friend's entire blessed event, but he'd stayed long enough to get the general idea of things.

"Seen some puppies…" he said.

Alice nodded her head.

"And was anyone holding the bitch down when she had the puppies?" Alice asked.

Daryl chuckled.

"No, she was doin' whatever the hell she wanted. Had her shut up in a little space in the corner of his living room," Daryl said. Alice nodded.

"It's natural for animals and it's natural for women to want to move around and change positions when they're in labor," Alice said. "As long as it isn't hurting the mom and it isn't hurting the kid, it actually helps things go better if they're allowed to do that. If Carol's more comfortable squatting or standing up when the little one makes its debut, then we're going to let her lead the parade and we're going to be flexible about it."

Daryl shrugged. He really didn't care how it happened so long as it happened and everything was fine.

"I just figured that she'd wanna lay down, everyone on t.v. did," Daryl said.

Alice smiled at him. Normally he was wary when the woman smiled, but this one looked genuine.

"Somewhere along the line we decided that was a good idea. It's easier on the doctor, which used to typically be a man, and it was easier on the father to see what was happening while he stood back and watched. You're not standing back and watching," Alice said. "You're going to be in there doing whatever the hell your wife needs and I'm one fucking flexible ass doctor. So the only way that Carol's going flat on her back for this shit is if she says that's what the fuck she wants to do. Otherwise, we'll go where we have to go."

Daryl turned his attention to Carol who was leaning back against the wall now.

"You like this idea?" He asked.

Carol smiled and nodded.

"I do," she said. "When Sophia was born I wanted to walk around, but it was a pain with the monitors…and Ed wasn't there so the nurses couldn't spare the time to walk with me as much as I wanted…"

Daryl winced a little at the mention of Ed, but he nodded.

"Then ya wanta walk, I reckon we gonna walk," Daryl said. Carol smiled and Alice beamed. She clapped him on the shoulder almost with the same force someone would use to dislodge food from his throat if he'd been choking.

"Atta boy, my man!" Alice said. "Spoken like a smart Papa bear." Alice turned and gestured toward Michonne. "The samurai has agreed to hang tight with us," she said. "I know you're all muscly and strong and shit, but you're not a hundred percent up to par, so I've asked her to hang around and just be back up, basically. Make sure no one busts their ass in the process if things get intense."

Daryl shrugged.

"I ain't sayin' a damn thing," he said. He looked back and forth between the three women. Even though Carol was pregnant and wasn't likely to wail on him, he knew she had a pretty good memory and might save it up for later if he didn't play his cards right. The other two were more than capable of getting him right now if he fell into the trap of being the "bad man". "Y'all just tell me where the hell ta be an' when the fuck ta get there, an' that's what I'ma do."

"Don't worry," Carol offered him. "It won't be that bad and you're going to do just fine."

Daryl crossed the cell and wrapped his arm around her, leaning down to kiss her. She was teasing him a lot about the birth and he wondered if it made her feel better. She kept assuring him that he was going to be fine and he was going to come through everything like a champ. He suspected it was distracting her from her concerns about her own role in the entire thing, which was, obviously, the more demanding position.

"I reckon we both got this, right?" Daryl asked. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm as he hugged her to him and she wrapped her arms around him. She leaned into him and sighed.

"I think we're going to make it," Carol said. "I'm happy, though, with the plan we've got."

"Long as ya like it," Daryl said, "I'm all for it. Just gotta get this kid out, right? Don't matter how ya wanna do it. It's all fine by me."

Carol smiled up at him and he couldn't resist kissing her again. These days she fluctuated between looking absolutely stormy and looking gleeful and he tried to get as much loving in between them when she was gleeful as he could.

"Come on," She said. "I want to show you the nursery that Michonne and Cynthia set up for us," Daryl nodded and followed her out of the cell, the other two women trailing behind, to pay the proper amount of admiration to the cell that had been put together to make her happy.


	78. Chapter 78

**AN: I decided to go ahead and get this chapter out for you. I hope I did it justice. These are always the chapters that never quite live up to the high expectations in your mind. LOL**

**I thought we only had one more chapter after this left, and that may be true…but there may be two more left…it's going to depend. **

**Either way, I hope you enjoy the chapter! **

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Daryl started back toward his cell from the showers and met Alice in the corridor. He knew that she'd been with Carol, but she didn't say much, just grinned as she got closer to him and clapped him on the shoulder in passing.

"Good luck, snook'ems," she said, not slowing in her trip toward the room that he'd recently left.

Daryl wasn't sure what that meant, but these days it could mean a lot of things. With one week to go until their estimated arrival time for the bean, it was all Daryl could do to keep from going crazy sometimes and going in after the kid in search of the relief that she needed and he needed just as badly.

Daryl sighed and took a deep breath before stepping into the curtain. He was a little afraid he was going to find a fire breathing dragon in his cell instead of the woman that he married.

Daryl was surprised, though, to find Carol leaning against her pillow, propped against the wall, and smiling at him when he came in. He was so surprised, in fact, that he almost didn't trust what he saw. He tossed his dirty clothes into the corner and stood looking at her.

She smiled, almost chuckling at him, and rubbed the bed.

"Don't look at me like that," she teased, "come on to bed. I was waiting for you."

Daryl smiled at her now.

"What'cha up to now, woman?" Daryl asked. He sat down on the bed and she leaned toward him so he leaned in to kiss her. She tangled her tongue with his, tugging at his hair until he almost had to struggle for breath. He pulled away and grinned at her. "Feelin' alright?" He asked.

"Mmmm hmm," she hummed. She pulled herself up to her knees and he reached a hand out, touching her elbow to steady her. She eased toward him as best she could and kissed him again, her hand rubbing inside the band of his underwear a moment before dipping inside.

Daryl was shocked. As of late she hadn't made too much effort to have sex with him. For the most part she was too tired, or she felt too big, or it was uncomfortable, and the list went on, and now she was stroking him and he was feeling like it had been too long.

Daryl closed his eyes and felt his breath quicken. Carol leaned in and dipped her tongue into his mouth again, searching out every inch of it. When she stopped touching him and removed her hand, he almost protested.

Carol pulled off her nightgown and threw it over him. He brought his hands up to cup her full breasts and dared to move, hoping she didn't change her mind, and take her nipple into his mouth. She responded by pushing her breasts to him, moaning and tangling her fingers into his hair.

Daryl teased her nipples for a good bit, almost as though he was greeting old friends again, since that's what it felt like. He was hard, though, and hoped that she had intentions of letting this go somewhere instead of leaving him hanging. When Carol pulled away from him, though, shifting around and hooking her hands in her panties to start pushing them down, he couldn't help but get excited at the prospect.

Daryl took mercy on Carol and helped her out of her panties, dropping them over the side. She wrestled herself onto all fours, the only position she'd seemed to like at all for some time, and looked at him over her shoulder.

"Well?" She teased. "You coming or you going to make me wait all night?"

Daryl grinned at her and reached around her, finding her nipples for a moment and pinching and pulling them before bringing a hand down to find her wet and waiting.

"Ya sure?" He asked.

"Mmm hmmm," she purred back.

Daryl entered her and thought for a moment he might come instantly just from the sheer joy of being inside her. He rocked against her, trying to set a gentle pace until she protested from under him and he held her hips, increasing his rhythm as much as he dared. The last thing he really needed was to do something like a pull a muscle with just a week to go before he was expected, from what he could tell, to perform some kind of athletic stunt in assisting her in the delivery of their child.

At the moment Daryl felt like the sex was the best he'd had with her. When she came, she came hard and didn't make any effort at all to stifle her cries. The feeling of her orgasm and the sound of her crying out was enough to drive Daryl over the edge and he didn't bother to muffle his own sounds either.

When they parted, Carol eased herself back into the leaning position that she'd been in before and Daryl wrestled the blankets on top of them to ward off the cold as his own breathing was still slowing. He leaned in, kissing her and felt her stroking the side of his face as their tongues lazily teased each other.

"Was it OK?" She asked, smiling at him after they pulled out of the kiss. He grinned.

"Damn near perfect," he growled at her.

Carol nodded.

"Good enough to hold you for a while?" She asked.

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her.

"Ya goin' somewhere?" He asked.

Carol chuckled. She cleared her throat and rubbed her finger along his collarbone as he leaned against his pillow facing her in the lamplight.

"No, I'm not going anywhere…" she said. "I'm already dilated, though…and that's probably going to help things along…it's not going to be long until you're a Daddy."

Daryl stared at her, something catching in his stomach.

"Ya mean like the baby's comin'?" He asked. He couldn't believe that the baby was coming and they'd just done something like that. He suddenly felt a little panicked and didn't quite know what to do. Carol was very calm and he had already decided in his head that she wouldn't be calm when she told him the baby was coming.

Carol shook her head.

"Not right this minute, Daryl. You can breathe normally," Carol said. She smiled again. "Soon, OK? But not right now. Don't worry. I promise that you're going to know when it's time."

"Like soon like let's go ta sleep soon or soon like I should go get Alice's ass outta the shower 'cause ya know she stays in there a whole lot fuckin' longer than she oughta," Daryl said.

Carol chuckled and leaned over, pulling at his face a little until he met her for another kiss.

"Like let's get some sleep, OK?" Carol said. "That's all I mean."

Daryl nodded at her and kissed her one last time before blowing out the lamp and settling down. He wasn't sure he was going to sleep, though, since he still wasn't exactly clear on what soon meant and even though Alice had told him about four or five times that everything was as ready as it would get, he still didn't feel like he was entirely prepared.

"We still gotta week…" he said in the darkness. He heard Carol stifle a laugh.

"Daryl, babies come when they come, OK? There's no calendar in there…just go to sleep. Baby's not coming tonight," Carol said.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He hoped that he was ready whenever the baby did decide that it was the perfect time to make its debut.

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Rick found Alice sitting in one of the chairs and leaning against the wall in the common room of the prison. Several of the women were passing back and forth doing various chores, and he quickly realized it was laundry day. Carol was in the middle of the room, moving back and forth between a basket of clothes sitting on a chair and the places on the various drying lines they had hung where she was hanging the clothes.

"You just watching?" Rick asked, taking a seat beside Alice in an empty chair she had pulled there.

"Watching Carol," she whispered. Rick was almost taken aback. Alice wasn't exactly known for her whispering nature.

"What are you watching her for?" He whispered back, leaning into Alice and stifling a laugh at the absurdity.

"She's pretending that she doesn't know I'm watching her and I'm pretending that I don't know she's in labor," Alice said. "Hershel and Ned have been playing with me, you can play some if you want."

Rick shot a glance at Carol and then looked back at Alice.

"You're saying she's in labor?" He asked, keeping his voice low.

Alice nodded.

"Been at it all fucking morning," she responded. "She's washed three baskets of clothes and all the breakfast dishes. She tried to mend some, but that didn't go over as well, so she went back to washing."

Rick stared at the woman. Then he turned his attention back to Carol and watched her silently for a bit. If Alice said she was in labor, then he didn't really doubt it entirely, but Lori had acted differently when she was in labor with Carl. The most he could say might catch his attention with Carol at the moment, and he'd not sure he would have noticed if Alice hadn't pointed out what was going on, was that every now and again she simply stopped in the middle of whatever she was doing and didn't move with no real explanation for the pause. She kept her back to both of them for the most part, though, so he couldn't even see what her facial expressions might be like.

"If she's in labor, shouldn't you be doing something?" Rick asked. He glanced around. No one that he could see passing by at any given time looked concerned and he wasn't even sure where Daryl was. "Where's Daryl?"

Alice shushed him and reminded him that they were pretending that this was a secret.

"Daryl's in the gym and Tyreese is going for him when I tell him to. Tyreese is in his cell so he has an ear out. As for what I'm supposed to be doing and not doing, she'll let me know when she's ready to get down to business. Until then she can do whatever the fuck she wants. If she likes keeping busy then who the fuck am I to tell her to sit down and spend her fucking day thinking about her expanding cervix," Alice said.

Rick made a face at her. Finally, he stood up and shrugged, deciding to go on watch. If no one else was concerned, he certainly wasn't going to be the one running around and sounding some kind of alarm. Carol seemed somewhat content in what she was doing and Alice was the doctor. He assumed that Daryl would be clued into things soon enough.

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When Alice finally perceived that Carol's pauses were frequent enough, and drawn out enough, she got to her feet and crossed the room breaking with the charade that they'd been playing for so long. She touched Carol's elbow just as Carol decided to take another of her impromptu breaks, leaning forward.

"Ready to go hang out in your cell?" Alice asked, reaching around and rubbing Carol's back for the moment.

"Yeah…" Carol said.

Alice nodded.

"You going there on your own or you want me to get you some help?" Alice asked.

Carol shook her head in response.

"No to which one?" Alice asked.

After a second Carol let out the breath she was apparently holding.

"I'm good," she said. "I can get there."

Alice nodded and looped her arm around her waist.

"Tyreese!" Alice called. "Can you go get Papa bear? And find my crew, please."

She helped Carol into the cell and started helping her get out of her clothes, leaving nothing but the oversized dress she was wearing to maintain whatever modesty she cared to keep intact during the ordeal. Alice, herself, would have been fine if she'd wanted to shed it all, but she respected that Carol was a somewhat private person and would leave her to decide if later she wanted out of that too.

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Daryl ran ahead of Tyreese, moving as quickly as he could. Even though he knew that Alice promised to let him know in plenty of time, he was afraid that he was going to miss everything if he didn't move faster than the regular walk the other man had set. Of course Tyreese wasn't concerned with the pace they travelled at, he wasn't the one with a kid on the way.

As Daryl got to the cell he stopped long enough to let Michonne, who was approaching, pass through the curtain and he stepped in behind her. Carol and Alice were in the middle of the floor space rocking together in a manner that made it look like they were slow dancing.

"Come on in here, Daddy," Alice said. She moved and Daryl stepped forward quickly. Carol wrapped her arms around his chest, leaning into him, her fingers digging into his back.

Daryl wasn't sure if he was doing what he was supposed to do or what was happening. It was crowded. The next thing he knew, Alice was on the floor and Michonne was in an odd sort of formation with him and Carol. Melodye came over with a bowl of water and Alice washed her hands and then Melodye drifted back to the side lines. Daryl didn't know if he was allowed to ask what the hell he was supposed to be doing or not. He waited until Carol's fingers dug sharply into him and she moaned out, her face against his chest.

Daryl tried not to focus on the fact that he couldn't breathe. He was supposed to be a silent partner in this. That much he'd gotten from his training with Alice, and he was going to do the best that he could to remain that way.

"OK," Alice said. "No one step on me, please…Daryl…that mostly means you. Carol, you got about two good contractions left and you're ready to push…baby beans isn't playing around anymore."

Daryl expected Carol to scream at him. He was waiting on it, but it seemed that as time ticked on she wasn't. She was making noises, but they weren't the blood curdling howls that he expected or any of the high pitched screams that he thought she was going to offer. Mostly he was just certain that his back was probably void of flesh from where her fingertips dug into him.

"Oh shit!" Alice said suddenly, catching Daryl's attention. She laughed.

"I'm sorry," Carol said in response, her face still pressed against him.

"Don't sweat it…" Alice said. "I needed a bath anyway and the bean just wanted to make sure I knew that shit…"

"What's goin' on?" Daryl finally asked. He looked at Michonne over Carol.

"Water broke," Michonne offered. "It's OK, it was going to happen eventually."

Daryl frowned. He didn't have long to think about it, though, because Carol's responses intensified and she yanked at him as she moved a little.

"Heads up samurai…" Alice called. Daryl looked down at the woman on the floor, looking around Carol's body.

"We're not going anywhere," Michonne said.

After a little while, Alice spoke again. Daryl was lost in an almost daydream, just waiting for something to happen. He'd gone nearly numb now from Carol's random pinching and scratching.

"OK, you two…Daryl…Michonne…keep a good grip on her. Carol, baby, you push when you want to push. You're not going anywhere and I've got the baby so you just worry about what you need to do and do that shit…" Alice called from her spot on the floor.

Daryl made sure he had the best hold that he could on Carol and had all but linked arms with Michonne to make a type of basket around her. She seemed completely unconcerned with them and Daryl noticed that now she was beginning to make more noise that might alert anyone in the prison that didn't know why they were all packed into the cell. Daryl listened at times to Carol, wishing he could do something more to help her, and at times to Alice who offered up various phrases of support to Carol, but for the most part he let himself go in and out imagining what was coming and hoping that everything was happening like it was supposed to be happening, whether or not it made any sense.

When Carol began to repeat "I can't" over and over in protest, Daryl got worried. He tried to look at Alice for support, but she wasn't paying him any attention.

"I think you can…" Alice offered in response. "Yeah you can…let's just try it and see what happens…"

Daryl noticed that Alice was keeping a grounded air about her that wasn't entirely common to her, at least not when she interacted with him, and he assumed it was to help Carol who was almost fighting him and Michonne in this interaction and coming undone more than he was used to seeing her.

"We have a head!" Alice announced. "I just need one more good push…just one more and I'm helping out here."

Carol spat something in protest that Daryl didn't fully understand, she was panting hard now and sobbing to some degree and her speech wasn't entirely intelligible.

"It's you and me…" Alice responded. "I'm helping…this is almost done…whether you like it or not."

Daryl almost chuckled, but the sensation was gone when Carol's hands grabbed up some of his skin and pinched it roughly.

And before Daryl even knew what was happening he heard the declaration that his child was born.

"We have a baby!" Alice announced. Melodye moved in quickly and reached out to help Alice. Carol slumped against Daryl and he scrambled to get his arms under hers and pull her up some, feeling her start to sink. He realized, as he started to heave her up, though, that Michonne had the same idea, so he froze in position waiting for any kind of further instruction. Before anything else could be said, though, the sound of a baby filled the cell and Daryl craned around to see Melody coming up from where she had been leaning down, his baby wrapped in a blanket.

Carol mumbled something.

"OK!" Alice said, scrambling around on her hands and knees. "You guys…can you help ease Carol down there? Let's let her rest a little bit…I'm sure everyone is wanting to meet this little guy."

"It's a boy?" Daryl asked. Michonne moved around he helped her ease Carol down onto the bed. She was covered with sweat and held tight to his shirt once they'd lowered her down.

"It's a boy?" She panted.

"It's a boy!" Alice said. She laughed.

Daryl sat awkwardly beside Carol since she wasn't letting go of him, apparently. His son…Daryl Dixon's son, was howling loud enough that it was ringing in the cell.

A moment later, Alice came over and Carol let go of Daryl, leaning toward her, her arms outstretched like she would snatch the tiny infant from Alice. Alice settled him into her arms and he didn't cease his cries immediately.

"Good for him to cry," Alice said. "We need to make sure those lungs are good and cleared out. He looks perfect, though."

Daryl had been told by Alice in their sessions before this that he was only allowed to refer to his child as beautiful. She'd warned him that most of the time newborns bore a striking resemblance to Mr. Potato Head that only their mothers couldn't see, but not to worry because after a little time his baby would begin to look more like it would actually appear.

But the baby nestled in the crook of Carol's arm, the one that she was already crying over, the one that had begun to quiet just a bit from his wailing, _was_ beautiful to Daryl.

"He's big enough?" He asked Alice. She stood there in front of them, her hands out to her side and nodded.

"He's perfect. I don't think Mama would have wanted him any bigger," Alice said.

Daryl wrapped his arm around Carol's shoulders and leaned over with just his finger to lightly touch the baby's hand that was visible from the blanket it was wrapped in. Carol was crying, but Daryl didn't feel like it was the type of crying that he was supposed to still.

"He's so little," Daryl said.

Carol sniffled.

"He's brand new," she said, her voice shaking with the tears. "He's brand new and he's perfect."

Daryl kissed the side of her face and she turned her tear filled eyes toward him for a second, dragon tears spilling down her cheeks, before looking back at the baby.

"Tell you what," Alice said. "Mama, you think you could part with him for just a few minutes? Let Mel and Daryl go get him cleaned up while I take care of you? Then I'll get out of your hair and you two can have the rest of the night to nuzzle the shit outta that kid…"

Carol looked reluctant, but she finally nodded and slowly passed the baby to Melodye who held him while Daryl got up. Daryl leaned over and kissed Carol gently, and she returned the kiss, sobbing a little into his mouth.

"Be right back, woman. Ya done good," he said.

Carol nodded at him and offered him a slight smile. Daryl stood still while Melodye placed the tiny infant in his arms, and then he followed her to the laundry room where the electric heater had been warming the space in preparation for cleaning up his son.

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"Congratulations, you fuckers," Alice said when Carol was finally settled, the baby in her arms, and Daryl was leaned next to her. "I'm going to take a shower now and try to forget about all the fond times we've spent together. You know where to find me if you need me. Feed that kid."

She left and Daryl and Carol were finally alone with their son. Daryl watched as Carol unbuttoned the top of the gown she was wearing and offered her breast to his son. After a moment of worrying that the baby didn't know what he was doing, he finally latched on and Daryl went back and forth looking at the baby that he couldn't believe was really here and looking at Carol who looked more beautiful, despite the tears flooding her eyes for the time being, than he could ever remember her looking.

"What did they decide on as a name?" Carol asked.

Daryl had asked Glenn about the name as he'd passed back toward the cell with his son, being congratulated by everyone who had gathered around to try to sneak a peek at baby Dixon.

"Decided to combine the names we come up with," Daryl said. "If ya don't like mine, though, we can switch the order 'cause they put mine first…or ya can change it if ya want. Don't matter ta me what we call him."

Carol sniffed a little.

"What's his name?" She asked.

"Cayden Joseph," Daryl said. He looked at her, expecting some kind of negative look to pass over her face, but she continued to look at the baby with the same expression as before while he worked on his very first dinner in the world.

"I love it," Carol said. "Where did you get that name?" She asked, looking at Daryl.

Daryl shrugged a little.

"Was a friend a' mine when I was a kid. He was a good guy…always like the name," he said. "Ya really like it?"

Carol nodded.

"I think it's perfect," she said. "Cayden's perfect."

Daryl smiled and kissed the side of her head again, just at the temple while she gazed on the baby. He brushed his fingertip lightly against his son's cheek.

"He damn sure is," Daryl said.

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**AN: So baby Cayden Joseph Dixon is here! **

**The name Cayden was offered by Southward Whatever and I just really, really liked the name. It means "heart of a warrior". **

**Joseph was offered as a middle name by AffairWithACrossbow, and I thought it was a wonderful middle name for our little Dixon. **

**I thank you all for the names that you gave me, though! I really do appreciate your input! **

**I hope I did the birth of baby Dixon justice in this fic.**

**Let me know what you think and I'll be bringing you our closing chapter(s) soon! **


	79. Chapter 79

**AN: So I wasn't sure if it would be one chapter or two and it turns out it was one. I give to you now the final chapter of this fic. I thank you all for taking this journey with me and I hope you enjoyed. Lots more notes at the end, so please stay tuned!**

**For the last time in this story, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!**

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Carol lie in bed. The dull ache of her body seemed distant, pushed away some by the medicine that Alice had offered her and the overwhelming joy she felt over the tiny life that slept in her arms. Daryl was asleep beside her, and she knew she should be trying to sleep too, but she hadn't blown the lamp out yet. The mattress was probably the least comfortable that she'd ever thought the prison mattresses could be, and she was far more interested in watching the little one's first night, even though she dozed a little on occasion.

His name was Cayden and he was even more perfect than she'd ever dreamed he'd be during all the nights that she kept herself teetering just before sleep, wondering if he'd ever get there, wondering what he'd be like.

He was already an active child, and even in his sleep he moved and wiggled, giving soft kicks with his feet and occasionally jerking a tiny arm just a bit. She wondered, as she sat there gazing down on him in the warm flicker of the lamplight, what it was that he might dream about when he had spent so few hours in the world and the time he'd spent there he'd spent mostly eating and protesting some aspect or another of his new situation.

Each time he shifted in his sleep, though, she couldn't help but smile. As he was seized, for just a moment, in some sort of dream that sent a tiny twitch through one of his little arms and he responded to it by sucking a moment later at nothing, Carol raised him toward her just a bit to kiss the soft skin of his little head.

"All those times," she whispered, "when I thought you were awake because you were wiggling…you were just dreaming sometimes, weren't you?"

Of course her son made no response beyond another round of the imaginary sucking and he settled down again. It wouldn't be long before he woke up anyway, protesting the fact that his imaginary sucking was providing him far less pleasure than that done when he was awake.

"Ya ain't gon' put him down none?" Daryl asked, his voice thick with sleep. Carol glanced toward him and could barely see his eyelids fluttering in the dim light.

"Not yet," she said. "It's only his first night…and he'll never have another one."

Daryl wrestled himself up, leaning on his elbow.

"I reckon if ya held him inside ya all them damn months, one more night ain't bound ta hurt nothin'," Daryl said. "But'cha oughta sleep some."

"I will," Carol said with a slight sigh. "Just not yet."

Cayden squirmed a little and sucked again, this time starting to make the mousy squeaks that he produced just before he woke entirely. Carol smiled at the sound that she was already beginning to feel was familiar and one of the most beautiful sounds she could hear. She reached her free arm down and shifted around, scooting herself into a better position on the mattress. She moved the baby a little and worked to free her breast as his noises began to intensify into the sneezy sounding cry that signaled he was about to do his best to wake everyone around him if he didn't get what he'd begun to seek somewhere in his little dream.

Carol helped the baby to latch and he seemed immediately satisfied. She wondered if he'd bothered waking up entirely. He'd only opened his eyes to slits now that he was sucking and seemed caught again in a milk stupor.

"Why ya cryin'?" Daryl asked, his voice still gravely. Carol hadn't realized until he mentioned it that she was crying again. It wasn't the kind of crying that one really notices all that much. It was more like she felt like she was so full…like her heart was so full at the moment…that there just wasn't anywhere else for the emotions to go and so they leaked out her eyes. She felt the hot tears rolling down her cheek and swiped them away from time to time, but it wasn't like the sobbing cry of a broken heart that she'd suffered before. These tears didn't need her attention, they just seeped out so that there was somewhere for them to go.

Carol shook her head slightly, a slight chuckle escaping her as she wiped quickly at a few of the tears.

"I don't know," she responded.

"Ya hurtin'?" Daryl asked. "Need me ta get someone?"

Carol shook her head and sighed a little.

"No, nothing like that Daryl. I'm fine. I guess that I'm just happy…and I'm remembering Sophia…a lot…I guess that my heart just can't hold everything," Carol said.

Daryl slipped his hand down and rubbing his thumb gently against the skin of her thigh under the blanket. The rough skin of his thumb provided a soothing scratch with the soft gesture, and Carol smiled at him again, though he wasn't looking at her for the moment.

"Sophia would have been happy 'bout Cayden," Daryl said. "Don't'cha think?"

"Yes, she would have," Carol said. She inhaled deeply and turned her attention to the baby, trying to switch sides with him before his smacking at her gave way to protests about having lost what was either his food supply or his pacifier, she couldn't tell which was more meaningful to him in the moment. "I know she's with my parents now, and I know she's happy…" Carol said. "But I can't help but miss her and think about her."

Daryl's rubbing on her thigh continued and he shifted around a bit in the bed.

"Ya ain't never gotta stop thinking 'bout her," Daryl said. "Ain't nobody never gon' expect that…but I don't want'cha ta start worryin' 'bout this lil' guy 'cause I know how ya is an' ya just keep goin' from one place ta another."

Carol chuckled.

"I might be a little guilty of that," she admitted.

"Well there ain't no need ta worry," Daryl said. "We gon' keep him safe. I ain't lettin' nothin' happen ta neither one a' ya. Not so long as I can do anything about it. I promised ya that before an' I don't mean it any less now."

Carol realized the baby was sleeping more than he was eating at this point and she carefully maneuvered him to burp him. When he was done, she glanced at Daryl once more who was now obviously awake.

"Do you want to hold him?" She asked. Daryl moved around and sat up and she gently passed the baby over to him, helping him get the child situated. "You're already a good Daddy," she said softly, watching the way that Daryl looked at his son.

Daryl snickered.

"Ain't hardly done nothin' yet, woman," Daryl said.

Carol smiled.

"Maybe not," she said, "but I can tell. It's mother's intuition, and it's a powerful thing."

"Is there a Daddy's intuition?" Daryl asked.

"I don't know…" Carol responded. "There might be."

"Do it feel weird?" Daryl asked.

"What?" Carol asked. She leaned her head against Daryl's shoulder, watching him as he gently petted Cayden's hand with his fingertip. The motion made the baby curl his fingers in his sleep.

"Not havin' him inside ya no more," Daryl said. "I mean ya spent an awful lotta time with him in there an' now he ain't no more."

Carol smiled and rubbed her cheek against Daryl's shoulder a little, thinking that she could doze off just like she was.

"I guess it is a little strange," Carol admitted. "I'm just glad that he's finally here and he's strong and healthy…"

"Nothin' ta worry 'bout, right?" Daryl asked, leaning his head over and bumping hers gently with his. She smiled.

"There's still plenty to worry about," Carol said, "but it's a different kind of worry now."

"Well, ain't nothin' ta worry 'bout tonight," Daryl said. "That's why ya oughta get'cha some sleep while ya still can."

Carol yawned and settled herself against him.

"Are you going to hold him for a while?" She asked.

Daryl leaned back a little, shifting down, and wrapped his free arm around her shoulder. She leaned in on him, resting her head against him.

"Yeah," he said. "I'ma hold him a while. Ya just close ya pretty eyes an' get some sleep. He'll let'cha know when he's sick a' his old man."

Carol chuckled and did close her eyes.

"I love you, Daryl," she said.

"Love ya too, woman. Thanks for my kid," Daryl said.

Carol laughed.

"I owe you just as much thanks in that as you owe me, I guess," she said, yawning.

She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, her entire body feeling like it was floating when she knew that she was grounded, and leaning against Daryl with his arm around her.

Once upon a time she'd thought that there was nothing left of her heart. She'd thought that it was destroyed by all the pain and all the suffering that she'd felt in her lifetime. She just assumed that it eventually it ceased to be there. Now, though, curled up next to Daryl with her newborn son sleeping close by, Carol realized that her heart wasn't gone at all. Perhaps it had been dormant…hiding and healing…but it was very much there and it was very much full of love now.

She drifted off to sleep, knowing that it wouldn't be long before her boy's strong cry would tell her that he needed her, that she had to wake up, and she wouldn't mind a bit.

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Daryl was proud of himself. His son was four days old and he had just successfully changed his fifth diaper. So far the score of changing a diaper without it either falling off immediately afterward or without Cayden deciding to make him change his shirt was Daryl: 2 and Cayden: 3, but he was catching up with his little man.

Cayden was lying on the dresser they'd padded with blankets, looking up at Daryl and smacking his lips. Daryl knew that the smacking meant that soon he was to become the obsolete parent.

"You always thinkin' 'bout boobies, ain't'cha?" Daryl asked the baby, smiling at him and trying to get his clothes back on in the gentlest manner possible. "S'how I know ya my son," Daryl said. "Boobies make me happy too," he teased.

"Boobies make everyone happy if their not too damn scared to admit it," Alice said. "Hardly a damn person alive or dead that didn't spend at least one part of their life obsessed with them."

She walked in behind Daryl and he glanced over his shoulder at her, smiling a little. He stepped to the side, sure she was coming to get a look at Cayden.

"How they hanging Beans?" Alice asked, leaning over the baby on the table and kissing him on the forehead. "Just saw your Mama. She's in the kitchen having a snack so she can make you a snack."

When Alice backed up, Daryl carefully collected the baby up into his arms. For just a moment it looked like Cayden was considering starting to cry then, but Daryl bounced him a little and he quieted down, looking confused about his situation instead of upset about it.

"He always looks confused," Daryl said with a chuckle.

Alice laughed.

"He's not confused," she said. "He's just got a lot to learn. It's a big damn world. He should figure shit out pretty good though, his Mama's pretty smart and his Daddy tends to learn with a little help."

Daryl rolled his eyes at her, but didn't respond to her comment.

"Ain't'cha got some damn body else ta bother in the prison?" Daryl asked.

"I'm on my way now, actually, to bug the samurai," Alice said. "I just couldn't pass up the allure of a little bean sugar on my way."

Daryl shook his head at her and walked out of the cell. He heard her, humming, headed in the other direction toward Michonne's cell.

Daryl walked around, looking for Carol. He checked the kitchen and the dining room first, since Alice had mentioned it, but he couldn't find her.

"What are you looking for?" Glenn asked, walking up and reaching over to gently rub the baby's face.

"Lookin' for Carol," Daryl said. "Cayden's gon' get hungry shortly an' it's a whole lot easier calmin' him down early rather than later.

Glenn rubbed the baby again and smiled.

"I saw her just a bit ago headed toward your cell," Glenn said. "You might find her in there."

Daryl nodded at the boy and rocked Cayden a little, trying to hold off the squeaky sounds he was starting to make. Those squeaking sounds were like a warm up for what the hell was coming next and Daryl didn't want to make the poor little thing howl if he didn't have to.

Daryl made his way to the cell and ducked through the curtain. Carol was putting away laundry and turned to smile at him just as he came in.

"Is he hungry?" She asked.

Daryl knew she heard the squeaks as well as he did and he nodded at her, but she was already moving toward the bed and coming out of her shirt. Daryl waited until she held her arms out toward him and he passed her the baby.

"There's no need to fuss!" Carol playfully chided the baby in the voice she reserved for him. "I wasn't gone that long and your Daddy was not pulling on your toes and ears. Don't tell stories on him."

Daryl chuckled at her teasing and watched with the same amazement he always did when she helped the baby latch onto her breast.

There was so much, in only four days, that Daryl felt like he was learning and experiencing in Cayden's life. The whole thing was amazing, and he thought that he would have found most of it fascinating with any child if he'd bother to closely study it before, but he hadn't until now. He'd never had a reason to really worry about it.

But Cayden was his son, and he made him feel a way that he couldn't have explained if anyone had asked him to. He felt like the little thing was the most perfect and most amazing little human ever. He was tiny and perfect, and Daryl knew that one day he'd grow up to be a perfect little boy, and then…if God saw fit to grant Daryl Dixon even more favors than he had since the world had gone crazy…a perfect man.

Daryl didn't know if he'd be the best father in the world. He didn't know if he even had the capacity for such a thing, but he knew that he'd do whatever he could to be the best father that he could be, and he hoped that one day Cayden would look back and realize that even if he failed at being the best, he'd still been pretty damn good as far as father's went.

Daryl watched Carol as she lovingly watched their son feeding. She glanced up at him and smiled, patting the bed beside her as an invitation to him to sit with her while Cayden ate. He hesitated a moment, though, just taking in the way she looked at the moment. The sweet smile on her face, her big blue eyes happy and dancing just a little as she looked at him with the expectation that he would join her. She was beautiful.

He didn't deserve her, and he knew it. Every day, it seemed, he came up with some way or another to do something totally wrong that he never meant to do wrong. He wasn't good enough for her…but somehow she never seemed to realize it. She always forgave him his sins and welcomed him back into her arms.

He loved her…every single thing about her. And impossible as it was for him to believe at times, it seemed that she really loved him too…no matter how big of a mess that he made.

Daryl sat down beside her on the bed. She turned, smiling at him still, and he leaned his head around, kissing her gently. She playfully dipped her tongue into his mouth, teasing his and he responded. When they pulled apart, he wrapped his arm around her and leaned his head against hers, watching Cayden who was trying to decide between the very pressing matter of the meal he wanted and the nap he wanted as well.

Rick was right. They were going to have to move on. One day the prison and the time that his family spent there would be a memory to all of them, as distant, faded, and weatherworn as every other memory they carried inside their hearts.

It wouldn't matter, though…not really. Daryl didn't think he would have minded travelling to hell if that's where he had to go, not as long as he had Carol by his side…and together they'd keep Cayden safe and watch him grow.

Most the world could agree, and maybe for them it was true, that since the dead starting walking the world had gone to hell. Daryl, though, couldn't count himself among those numbers. It took the world going to hell for him to find everything that was worth having in the world. It had taken him a long time to find it, and he'd nearly lost it all once or twice, but in the end he knew it was his now, and he knew it was the best thing that a simple man like him could ever even dream of having.

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**AN: Wow! So what a journey it's been! I'm really sad to finish now, but I hope I did this little tale justice.**

**As for all of you who have read the whole thing, I truly appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed! To everyone who read, to everyone who reviewed and kept me going, and to those of you who simply enjoyed in silence as well, I thank you! Hopefully I didn't let you down.**

**A few special thanks: **

**To EnglishPoet18…who somehow has managed to read every single that I've written and still maintained her sanity through hours and hours of daily conversation.**

**To SAO loving mom and to vickih who have acted as on site cheerleaders through the ups and downs.**

**To Dixonrocks, Yazzy x, marshmallowdeviant, definitelywalkerbait, HGRHfan35, itsi3, alibabwa, peonies01…who have read and reviewed every chapter (or very nearly) as we've gone along.**

**And to all of you not named who are no less loved and appreciated for your support. In the world of fanfiction we have no payment for what we do besides the support of our readers and I want you all to know you're very much appreciated!**

**I also want to thank everyone who nominated and voted for Alice in SAO loving mom's contest as best OC. I really appreciate that and it means a lot to me that you like one of my OCs so much. It means a lot to Alice too because your love of her earned her character development and kept her from fulfilling her originally planned fate of simply becoming a Walker "Scooby snack". **

**I'm leaving this story somewhat open for the possibility of some kind of sequel in the future, but I'm not sure when or if I'll actually write one for it. We'll have to see which way the wind blows. If you're interested in it, though, then I'll see about working on one.**

**I do have plans for another *eventual* Caryl fic that will take place during the zombie apocalypse, but it's going to be pretty different from this one and since it's an *eventual* Caryl fic you get to suffer through a lot of the good, slow burn that I enjoy torturing you with. It's already in the planning, though I don't expect the first chapter to be out to it for a little bit. Maybe this weekend. Alice will be appearing in it, in a slightly different manner, as a "main" supporting character. It will be titled "Lightning Only Strikes Once," so I invite you to drop in and give it a read if you're interested. **

**Until then, if you're bored and looking for something to read, I invite you all to check out the other fics that I have going. Each has their own little "niche," but I hope you can find something to keep you interested. **

**Again, I just want to say thank you to you all for sticking with me through 79 chapters of this fic. You're all wonderful and I truly appreciate it! **

**I really hope you enjoyed and I hope to see you later in some of my other fics! **

**Love to you all and CARYL ON! **


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